Chimera
by Maddy Lake Deep
Summary: Third installment of the "Fragile Choices" series. Frodo chose to stay in the Shire with his family and friends. But when mysterious events happen around him, once again he questions his sanity. Complete
1. Return to Hobbiton

**Author's note: I've had some serious writer's block for some time and I never thought I could write another story about Frodo and Tansy but I did it! Also, encouragement and support from friends helped a lot and I'm so very grateful to you! Now because of the writer's block I've had, I'm not sure if this story will be good, so please be honest and let me know what you think.**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or anything in Middle-earth. But...I own Tansy, Calla and Rory Hortlebower.

Category: Angst, mystery

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Third installment of the "Fragile Choices" series. Frodo chose to stay in the Shire with his family and friends, but when mysterious events happen, once again he questions his sanity.

**Chimera**

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Chimera: Illusion, fantasy, figment of the imagination...

**Chapter One: _Return to Hobbiton_**

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It had been several months since the time Frodo returned from the Grey Havens and stayed at Bag End. And now it was mid-June in the first year of the fourth age. He woke from his pleasant slumber, something he never thought he could experience again after the madness. There were those days when his anniversary illnesses plagued him once more, but Tansy was always there, comforting him and nursing him back to health.

Frodo shut the closet doors. Fastening the top button on his white shirt, he crossed over to the right side of the bed and sat beside Tansy. While she slept, he gazed lovingly into Tansy's face. Frodo smiled and admired the way the sunlight graciously cradled her freckled face. Every moment or so, her eyes twitched as if she would awaken any second. Careful not to awaken her, he gently peeled away a few of her red curly bangs and gave Tansy a soft, good morning kiss on her forehead. Then Frodo eased away from her and tiptoed toward the door. His hand reached for the brass knob until...

"Frodo?"

At the sound of her tender and endearing voice, he came to an abrupt halt at the door.

Tansy added, "And where are you off to?"

Frodo turned to see her dreamy smile. "I'm sorry. I've awaken you."

Tansy sat up from the pillow, shaking her head. "No, you didn't wake me...and I would not mind at all if you gave me another kiss."

The smile she had shown him previously had morphed into a mischievous grin.

Frodo smiled back, raising his left brow. "You sneak!"

Tansy giggled while her husband returned to the bed and plopped next to her.

"Well," he said, edging his lips toward hers, "now that you're awake...good morning."

"Good morning," whispered Tansy and caught his lips into her own.

It was those moments when she was lost in his kiss, lost in his embrace; Tansy didn't care much to be found by reality—reality of the children waking any moment. And there was Sam and Rosie. One of them would be awake soon to cook breakfast.

Frodo, careful to avoid being lost himself, quickly broke away from their passionate kiss. He drew in a deep breath, desiring Tansy so much that he stared at her with sleepy eyes, as if he had already been to the Green Dragon and drank a few pints.

Frodo's four-fingered hand reached for her face and stroked tenderly along her cheekbone.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," Tansy said, barely audible.

Frodo added, "I don't ever regret staying here with you, Calla and everyone I love. Though I must say...I miss Uncle Bilbo and Gandalf."

"I know you do, Frodo. We all miss them, too."

Frodo's eyes fell on to the tiled floor. A crestfallen expression clouded the joy he felt only moments ago, and then he cleared it away with a perky grin that grew across his lips. His water-blue eyes brightened as his gaze fleeted back to hers.

"Forgive my rude manners, I never told you where I was off to now did I?"

Playfully, Tansy shook her head and waved a finger that told him...naughty, naughty, naughty.

"Well," he began, "I was off to check on Calla and Elanor to see if they're awake. I don't think Sam and Rosie are up and about either. So I figured I'll make the breakfast."

"Now that I know you're off to the kitchen, you better be quick. You know Sam. He's beaten you many times before."

Frodo sprang from the bed. He hastened to the door and as he opened it, he stopped short and looked back at Tansy with a determined smile.

"Not this time."

* * *

A half an hour later, the round door of the Gamgee bedroom swung open and out came a smiling gardener. Rosie was also beside him as they stepped into the hall. Sam sniffed and breathed deeply the delectable aroma of butter and almond.

"Mmm!" said Sam.

At that moment, Tansy shut the door to the Baggins room and headed down the hall toward Sam and Rosie.

She stopped to say, "Good Morning, Sam. Good Morning, Rosie," Tansy greeted cheerfully.

"Good Morning," they said together.

Then Sam added, "Smells like pancakes you're making this morning?"

Tansy giggled. "Yes, they are, but I'm not the one in the kitchen."

Realizing it had to be Frodo, a little smile formed in the corner of Sam's mouth.

"Well," he began, "Mr. Frodo went and done it. He beat me to the kitchen!"

At the table, a large platter of golden brown pancakes sat in the middle along with strawberries and other appetizing fruit. Every now and then, someone would reach for the platter, stick a fork into a pancake or two or three and carefully lift them back on to their plate. Amidst the chatter, it was Calla's turn to take another pancake. The three-year old gripped the porcelain plate, slowly sliding it toward her own. She plunged her fork into the pancake, lifting it from the stack. And just when Calla thought she had another one to eat, the pancake broke in half. Part of it crumbled onto the table and the other half stuck on the fork. Frowning at her mess, she side-glanced Elanor who sat beside her and giggled.

Embarrassed and annoyed, Calla sulked. "Hmph!"

Sitting on the other side of Calla, Tansy witnessed her daughter's little mishap. Taking a momentary break from the conversation, she took Calla's fork and effortlessly hoisted a pancake onto her plate.

At that moment, the conversation continued with Sam babbling on.

"Mr. Frodo, you should cook these pancakes more often," he said while dipping a piece of it into the strawberry sauce.

Frodo chuckled, shaking his head. "I would if you gave me a chance in the kitchen."

Sam nodded and before he ate his piece of pancake, he smiled. "All right, Mr. Frodo. It's your turn again in the kitchen tomorrow. But on the day of your anniversary, I better not catch you and Tansy doing any cooking. Rosie and I plan on cooking something special for you."

"Three years," Tansy whispered in disbelief, as if reality had yet to sink in about her marriage to Frodo and all they endured within that time.

Frodo eyed Tansy beside him, and then he gave her one of his shy smiles.

"Yes, it's been three years," he said softly. "And I'll never forget that day we were married."

Frodo caught himself again. He wondered what Tansy thought of his constant, 'I'll never forget this and I'll never forget that' And though her smile told him 'it's okay, I understand, it wasn't your fault'...Frodo could never escape the haunting guilt of forgetting her during the madness of the ring.

* * *

_**"What a beautiful day it is..."**_

Rory Hortlebower had a knack of cheering up folk with those words. But as he sat alone at the kitchen table and finishing up what remained of the bacon and eggs he had cooked, he wished he could do the same for himself with those words. Frustrated, he tossed the fork that struck the plate with a clank. His solemn, emerald-green eyes stared grimly at the plate mostly empty except for a few scraps of bacon.

For some time he wondered why Tansy never returned to Staddle about one of the hobbit-holes he wanted her to see, where he wanted her to live. He still remembered her face and the sadness in her eyes she could not hide from him no matter how hard she tried.

_**I understand how it feels to lose someone you love. I understand, Tansy...**_

Rory's eyes fleeted from the plate to the empty chair at the end of the table. His glance skirted to another empty seat across from him. For a moment he heard the laughter of a child who once sat there. His wife also chimed in with her laughter. Suddenly, their precious laughter became helpless screams, relentless and blaring louder, louder.

"Noooo!" Rory cried aloud, shutting his eyes so tightly that tears wet the corners of his eyes. He opened them and shuddered. The screams were silenced. No more laughter, only empty chairs. His face caved into the palm of his trembling right hand. For what seemed like minutes, he sat like that until Rory suddenly straightened in the chair, as if to scold himself for giving in to what he considered a momentary weakness.

_**No, I must not think of it. **_

Rory sprang from the chair and when he walked out into the parlor, he opened the round door of his hobbit-hole.

_**Fresh air...That's what I need.**_

Rory stood outside, breathing deeply the vitalizing fragrance of grass and flowers of his garden. He gazed down the lane that led to many townhouses where the big folk lived in Bree—where he met Tansy for the first time. He had to see her again, even if it meant going to Hobbiton. Several years it was since his last visit. Too many years and now Rory gave it no more thought of whether he should return or not.

* * *

The day before summer, before Frodo and Tansy's anniversary, the market seemed busier than ever. The Baggins and Gamgees along with their children strolled past many vendors. While Tansy stopped alongside Frodo at one of the tables, she noticed Calla's hand tried desperately to unlock itself from around Tansy's fingers.

"Calla," said Tansy irritably. "You must hold my hand."

"But Elanor and I want to play!"

"You and Elanor will get lost in this crowd," she stated firmly while looking down at her daughter whose fiery red curls wavered in the breeze.

"That's right," said Sam to Elanor after he overheard Tansy's conversation with Calla.

A grumpy Elanor unwillingly held Rosie's hand and sulked.

"But, daddy," she pleaded, looking up at Sam and squinting from the sun blinding her eyes. "We promise not to get lost. We only want to look at the jewelry over there. Please?"

By then, Calla and Elanor had their parents undivided attention.

Frodo peeked at the jewelry table that was on the other side, not far from where they stood. His gaze shifted back to Tansy, Sam and Rosie and saw they had already surrendered to the constant nagging and pleading from the girls.

Frodo sighed and looked down at both Calla and Elanor. "All right, but make sure you stay there until we come over."

Delighted smiles stretched across the faces of both girls and then they scuttled over to the jewelry table. They squeezed themselves between the crowd of elder hobbits and stared in fascination at all the many necklaces; broaches and even flower-crowns adorned with beads intricately woven around the vines. These were crowns that Tansy made and actually quite popular at the market.

Elanor eagerly pointed at one of the necklaces with a teardrop gem as blue as the morning sky.

"I like that one."

Calla giggled. "Me, too! I wish I can wear one, like the one mum has."

Golden spirals of Elanor's hair swung around as she peered over her shoulder. "Let's see what's over there."

"But," said Calla, "We were told to stay here."

"We'll find our way back. We won't be far."

Calla's water-blue eyes shifted nervously to where her parents stood on the other side of the market. She wanted to explore just as much as Elanor, and when her attention darted back to her best friend, Calla's face brightened with an almost impish grin.

"Okay!" said Calla and followed little Elanor Gamgee through the crowd.

After exploring many of what the vendors were selling, Calla suddenly panicked.

"Elle," Calla whispered. That was the nickname she gave Elanor, finding it easier to say Elle. And when Elanor didn't answer, Calla attempted once more. "Elle!"

"What is it?" Elanor answered, rather irritated, but not at Calla.

"I don't see our parents." Calla searched frantically through the crowd. "Oh, Elle, we're lost!"

Elanor sighed and frowned. "What are we going to do?"

Rory sauntered through the crowd of hobbits—some he recognized and some did not look at all familiar. He smiled to himself about the fond memories of markets he had visited in the past. Now at this one, he hoped to see Tansy but so far he had no such luck. Rory stopped at one of the tables where chickens were being sold. Instead of the chickens, something else caught his attention. Behind him, he could not help but listen to the frantic conversation of two girls.

Elanor went on to say, "Our parents will be very angry with us."

"We have to find them," insisted Calla.

"Are you lost?" A voice asked.

The girls spun around and looked up into the benevolent face of a hobbit unfamiliar to their eyes. He wasn't as stout as most hobbits and appeared to be the age of thirty-six or more.

Calla and Elanor sadly nodded at his question.

Rory bent down in front of the wary girls. His face beamed from the warm smile he hoped had comforted them. The sparkle in his emerald eyes told them not to worry; he would never hurt them.

"I know I'm a stranger," said Rory, "But you don't have to be afraid of me. I want to help. My name is Rory Hortlebower."

"Hello, Mr. Hortlebower," The girls answered in unison.

"And you are?" His eyes skipped from Calla to Elanor, and then they stopped at Elanor. "Let's start with you first."

"I'm Elanor Gamgee," she boldly told the hobbit whose sunflower-yellow vest complimented his butterscotch curls.

Rory waited for Calla who wasn't as bold but terribly shy of strangers.

"It's alright," he assured her.

"I'm—Calla—Baggins."

Rory wondered if she was indeed Tansy's daughter. She never told him about her first name, though he noticed the striking resemblance between Tansy and Frodo.

"Well," he said cheerily, "it's very nice to meet you Calla and Elanor. Do you remember where you saw your parents?"

Elanor quickly nodded. "Near the jewelry table!"

"The jewelry table...hmm...I know where that is. They may be looking for you. Come, I'll take you there. Hopefully after they searched, they'll go back to the table to see if you had found your way there."

When he stood on to his feet, the girls had no choice but to follow Rory through the crowd. Every moment or so, Calla peeked at Mr. Hortlebower, examining the way he confidently weaved his way around the market. She hoped he could help them find their parents and at the same time, terrified of the scolding they would surely get when they do.

A very disgusted and worried Sam shook his head.

"I knew it. I didn't much like the idea of Elanor and Calla going off by themselves."

The hobbits searched exhaustedly for their children and by then, Tansy grew frantic.

"Where are they?" she whined.

"We'll find them," answered Frodo and making an effort to sound optimistic. But he was just as worried as Tansy.

Rosie added, "They have to be around here somewhere," she paused and let out a frustrated sigh. "It's so crowded."

They were far from the jewelry table, but Elanor's eyes gleamed when she spotted her parents squeezing past other hobbits in the distance.

She pointed. "It's them!"

Rory grinned and excited about finding their parents. His eyes widened at the sight of Tansy but then his grin swiftly faded when he saw Frodo Baggins beside her. The rosy pink color suddenly drained from his face, and to someone else, they would think of him ill at noticing the shade of chalk-white Rory now evidently conveyed.

Elanor grabbed Rory's hand. "Come, it's them!"

Reluctantly, Rory went along with the girls and caught up to their parents.

"There you are!" Rosie shouted.

"Well," said Sam while crossing his arms. He smirked. "You've gone and sneaked off."

"I'm sorry, daddy." Elanor pleaded.

"I'm sorry, too," said Calla softly. Her shameful eyes sank to the ground.

Tansy froze. Of course she was ecstatic to see Calla and Elanor again. But for that brief moment, it had been like time suddenly halted when she saw the man who stood with the girls, the man who was Rory Hortlebower.

A relieved Tansy embraced Calla, and then she looked up at Rory again, not knowing whether to smile or not or say something.

Frodo sneaked a glance at his wife. He wondered why she looked so spooked at seeing this stranger.

And Rory, he decided it would be wise to introduce himself.

"Hello, I'm Rory Hortlebower of Staddle. The girls were lost and I happen to be in the area to help them."

"Well," said Sam gratefully. "Thank you, Mr. Hortlebower. Very kind of you to help."

Rosie thought his name sounded familiar and when she remembered he was the real estate broker who Tansy met in Bree, she welcomed him with an amiable smile.

She said to him, "We're very grateful for your help."

"Yes," Tansy agreed but the words came out as if she had just awakened from a deep sleep and dazed. "It was very kind. Thank you."

Rory bowed his head slightly forward and smiled. "You're welcome."

Frodo could not understand why in Middle-earth was he so uneasy about Rory. Maybe it had to do with the way Tansy looked at him.

_**Stop it, Frodo Baggins. She had to have seen him before. That's what it is and nothing more.**_

Frodo shrugged his suspicions aside and extended his hand toward Rory.

"I'm Frodo Baggins," he said. Still uncomfortable with his four-fingers, especially with strangers, he firmly shook Rory's hand with his left. "This is my wife, Tansy. And this is Sam Gamgee and his wife, Rosie."

Not wanting them to see his disappointment about Tansy with Frodo, Rory continued to smile and flaunted his cheery demeanor.

"It's a pleasure meeting you all."

Frodo asked, "You're from Staddle?"

"Yes. I own property there. It's been such a long time that I've been in Hobbiton. My visit here isn't only for this day. I'm staying at the Green Dragon Inn so I'll be here for a while."

Frodo managed a feeble smile. "I hope you enjoy your visit here. And you'll see us again at the Green Dragon tomorrow."

"Really? Well, I look forward to meeting with you all again." Eager to finish the conversation, Rory bowed politely. "Good-day." He glanced at Tansy, their eyes locked briefly and then he went on his way.

* * *

During that night, inside the Baggins' bedroom, Frodo carried the lantern over to the table beside the bed. In his nightshirt, he sat down on the bed and waited for Tansy to come in. She was taking a bath and some nights he would join her, but not when she wanted to bathe in water filled with strawberries. Now that was something for a lass to do and some lasses didn't even do that, which is what he always found special about Tansy.

The knob slowly turned and when she peeked inside through the half open door, Frodo greeted her with a pleasant smile. Tansy shut the door behind her, strode toward Frodo in her ruffled nightdress and then she sat beside him.

The tantalizing aroma of strawberries lightly wafted under his nose, beckoning him to kiss her lips, her neck and shoulders. But before he had done that, he gazed intently into her cinnamon-brown eyes and could not avoid the question he needed to ask her.

"There's something that's been on my mind since meeting Rory."

Curious about his question, Tansy tilted her head a little and frowned.

"What?"

"You know him, don't you? I saw the way you looked at him."

Earlier, Tansy had a feeling he had been aware of her surprise at seeing Rory.

_**What am I afraid of? I've only met Rory briefly. So why not tell Frodo of how I've come to know him?**_

"Frodo, when I thought you weren't coming back from the Grey Havens, I decided I could not live here anymore. The memories were just too painful. So I chose Bree where I searched for a place to live. It so happened I met Rory there. He owns property in Staddle like he said. He wanted to show me a few hobbit-holes but...I changed my mind. I thought I could leave Bag End but I couldn't. And then...you came back. I was only surprised to see Rory here in Hobbiton."

Frodo smiled sheepishly and feeling foolish about his paranoia he thought silly.

"Frodo, I love you—very, very much," she assured him.

Frodo rested his head on her shoulder, and then he teasingly kissed along her collarbone.

"Frodo," whispered Tansy, "you're forgetting something."

He looked up at her. "Hmm?" Then he remembered.

Frodo turned around...the lantern. And when he blew out the flame, all that could be heard in the darkness from Tansy was a soft giggle.

**TBC **

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**A/N: Please read and review. Would love to know what you think!**

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	2. Anniversary

**Author's note: Hey everyone! I'm sorry it took me so long to update the next chapter. Finally I had time to finish this. Another reason it's taken me a while is because I'm developing the new character, Rory, which isn't always easy. Again, thank you for your encouraging reviews and I hope you like chapter 2!**

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Disclaimer: No, I don't own Tolkien's characters, only Tansy, Calla and Rory.

Chapter two: _**Anniversary**_

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"Daddy, Daddy!" said Elanor excitedly. "Someone's at the door!"

"I know," Sam answered while Elanor and Calla skipped in front of him as he headed for the door. "Elanor, Calla," he added, trying to dodge from behind them. When he saw they annoyingly blocked his path, Sam halted and a frustrated sigh escaped from his lips. "Now how am I supposed to open the door if you two are in my way?"

Realizing she annoyed her father again, Elanor stepped out of Sam's path and then she tugged Calla along with her.

"We're sorry, Daddy," Elanor said softly and gave him one of her puppy-eyed looks.

Sam sighed again when he saw that look. Sometimes he gave in to it, but this time Samwise the brave had had enough. "Now you girls behave," he said sternly. "You gave us much trouble this morning."

"We'll behave," said Elanor unconvincingly. She peeked at Calla beside her. "Won't we Calla?"

Calla did not utter a word, only nodding quietly.

"Uh-huh," muttered Sam and he smirked.

By then the..._ring, ring, ring_ of the doorbell began to annoy him more than Elanor and Calla had only moments ago.

"Alright, alright!" grumbled Sam and when his hand grabbed the knob and flung the door open...

"Hello, Sam!" said an elated Pippin at the door.

"Uncle Pip! Uncle Merry!" shouted Elanor as she ran toward them. Calla raced along side her toward the two hobbits and when they knelt with open arms, the girls collided into their embrace.

Pippin said to them, "It's always a pleasure to see our favorite lasses in all of the Shire."

"And," Merry added to what Pippin had said, "You've been behaving haven't ya?"

The two girls were speechless at what Merry asked them. Their eyes slowly rolled up to Sam who stood above them with crossed arms. And when he smirked, that immediately answered Merry's question.

Merry's eyes widened, but he only pretended to be shocked and gasped at the girls.

"Now what trouble have you gotten yourselves into this time?"

Elanor and Calla gave them a sheepish grin and shrugged.

"I wondered who it could be at the door," Rosie interrupted as she strode into the parlor, and then she greeted them with one of her pleasant smiles.

Merry and Pippin stood onto their furry feet.

"Good-day, Rosie," said Pippin while Sam shut the door.

Puzzled, Merry's eyes searched the parlor.

"Looking for Frodo and Tansy?" asked Rosie.

Merry frowned. "Where are they? We came to wish them a happy anniversary."

"They'll be back soon. They took a stroll into the woods."

* * *

The apple tree.

It would always be Frodo and Tansy's special place in the woods.

The anniversary of where they kissed for the first time.

While Frodo rested himself against the tree, his lap was like a soft pillow for Tansy's head as she lay upon it. He watched many fragments of sunlight peeking through the green canopy of the tree and casting shadows of leaves on to Tansy's face. Every moment or so, a warm breeze gently parted her bangs and brushed them off from her forehead.

"I hoped for a beautiful day," she whispered while looking up at the sun's light glimmering through the leaves. "And it is, just like the day we kissed and on the day we were married."

Frodo smiled, raising his cheeks that boasted a radiant pink like those of the roses in his garden.

"It is a splendid day, indeed," he answered contently. His fingers crept along her neck, and down on to her pink rose necklace that hung above the ruffled collar of her yellow-green dress. "I have to remind myself to buy a pendant for each dress you wear."

She slid her fingers over his hand that hugged the pendant.

"But," Tansy began, "I'll always cherish this one."

Frodo smiled again, recalling the time he bought the pendant for her birthday. He was about to say something and hesitated when Tansy continued.

"Oh, Frodo, I can't wait till tonight," she said with a beaming grin. "I remember when we celebrated our anniversary at the Green Dragon last year. I love our dances together."

Frodo chuckled. "I remember our first dance."

Tansy's sleepy eyes rolled to meet his and then it only took a second. Snapping out of the romantic reverie, her eyes were no longer half-closed but wide and alert as she sprang from his lap.

"Don't you dare say it!" she shouted but it wasn't an angry shout, like someone would assume.

"Say what?" answered Frodo who only pretended to be naïve about what she had said.

Tansy plopped beside her husband and glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"You remember what happened that night, when I fell on my bottom and made an absolute fool of myself. That's what that laugh was about."

"You're wrong, Tansy. I didn't laugh. It was merely a chuckle."

"Hmph, a chuckle is all?" She shook her head. "That was no chuckle."

They both stared at one another. Though she tried, Tansy could not keep up with her pretending to be angry any longer and a sudden laughter burst from her lungs.

Frodo's own laughter resonated along with hers. And when their laughter slowly came to an end, Frodo whispered...

"I love you."

He extended his left hand toward her face. Suddenly...

The struggle.

Obsession and hate.

An excruciating, burning pain.

When Frodo discovered he was visible, he stared in utter horror at the bloody stump where his third finger had been. The unbearable pain.

"Frodo?"

He shivered and stared at his hand. The pain subsided. No more blood, only the healed stump. What he thought he had seen was only the nightmarish memory of his fight with Smeagol on the cliff inside Mount Doom.

"Frodo?" Tansy repeated with more concern in her voice. And when she saw he continued to stare frighteningly at his hand, Tansy grabbed it into her own. "Frodo, please, listen to me. You're here. You're not at that awful place anymore. Frodo!"

Jarred by Tansy's gentle voice, his gaze drifted back to her eyes exuding warmth that soothed him; cradled in her arms that comforted him.

Frodo silently thanked her again, letting his wife know how much he appreciated her by his firm embrace.

"I'm all right," he whispered while rocking Tansy in his arms. "We'll have a wonderful time tonight."

And she answered, "Yes, Frodo, we will."

* * *

That evening, a full moon had shown its beauty against the remaining indigo twilight. Some nights during the summer it greeted the Shire with a mellow orange glow. This time the moon appeared like a soft pink gem, as if it blushed above the boisterous laughter and music that bellowed from the Green Dragon Inn.

Not one table was empty inside the inn with hobbits celebrating Frodo and Tansy's anniversary. Many families and friends attended the celebration. Among those present were Father Maggot, his wife and a few others they knew from the Brandybuck family. They sat at a corner table on the left side of the inn. Not far, near the middle of the inn sat Frodo, Tansy and of course Sam, the Gaffer, Merry, Pippin, Estella Bolger and Diamond of Longcleeve.

Where was Rosie? Well, she tended to her usual duties as barmaid. When she had a moment, Rosie stopped by the table where her husband sat and snuggled beside him, then she hurried back to pouring ale and serving numerous mugs at crowded tables.

While everyone at the table were chatting loudly, laughing and drinking, something distracted Tansy, an unusual thing for her because she often chimed in her part of the conversation. And what was the distraction? Rory Hortlebower. A barrage of questions flooded her mind.

_Hmm...I thought he would be here? After all, he said he was staying at the inn._

_What am I doing? It's our anniversary. Why should I care if Rory..._

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

Rory seemed to suddenly appear out of the shadows as he snaked his way past dancing couples and around tables.

Tansy's curiosity beckoned her eyes to follow the round-faced real estate broker through the crowd until he sat down at the table with Farmer Maggot.

_He knows Farmer Maggot?_

"Tansy..."

Startled by Frodo's voice, Tansy blinked a few times as if she awakened from a strange trance.

"What?" she said, glancing awkwardly at her husband.

"Are you all right?"

When she didn't give him an immediate reply, Frodo picked up her mug and looked down into it.

"Well, it isn't the ale. This is your first one and you hardly touched it."

Though she tried, Tansy was not at all clever at hiding her sheepish grin.

"I'm sorry, Frodo. I--,"

A sudden interruption ended their conversation. The jaunty melody of fiddles played again, and this time with a resounding, rhythmic clap from every hobbit inside the inn. Tansy knew they were cheering for them to dance.

The Gaffer who was hidden by Sam sitting beside him had stuck his head out into view. He peered at Frodo and Tansy with a gleeful look in his eyes and his smile, wide and bright.

"Go on," he said to them. "Dance!"

Frodo gazed at his wife with a grin that told her they should dance. And like they had done on their wedding day, the couple held hands as they strolled out into the middle of the inn, and so began the dance.

Everyone watched them, enjoying the way they waltzed effortlessly on the floor. But someone watched them even more intently. Rory while clapping had studied Tansy dancing with Frodo, the way she stared into his eyes. She loved him. A profound love anyone could see, and Rory was not at all blind to it.

_Tansy, why did you tell me Frodo was dead. Why?_

At that moment, other couples joined Frodo and Tansy. Among those were Sam and Rosie when she had another break. Merry also joined them with Estella. And Pippin made sure he wasn't left out when he escorted Diamond on to the floor.

Rory stopped clapping, picked up his mug and drank the rest of the ale that he finished.

"Since being here, I've heard many things about Frodo," said Rory inquisitively as he continued to observe Frodo and Tansy.

"Who hasn't?" answered Farmer Maggot sitting beside Rory. "Every where I go I hear about Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin.

The real estate broker took a momentary break from the Baggins couple and eyed Farmer Maggot. "I've also heard Frodo has four fingers now. Is this true?"

Farmer Maggot nodded.

"Really? How did it happen?"

"I know many things, Rory, but that I can't say. All I know is when he left Bag End there were some strange goings on. I've seen things—even now when I think about it, I get scared out of me wits."

Rory was distracted from the conversation when the music stopped. The dance ended and everyone had gone back to his or her seat.

Farmer Maggot did not care much for talk about the 'strange goings on' that happened after Frodo left, and so he decided to change the unpleasant conversation.

"Well," he said to his friend. His face brightened with the most cheery smile he could muster. "I'll admit, your visit here surprised us all. It's been such a long time. What made you decide to come back?"

"Like you said," Rory began, peering over several tables until his curious eyes found the table where Tansy sat. "It's been a long time...too long. Uh, excuse me, Farmer Maggot."

Rory left the table and as he sauntered cautiously to where he wanted to go, the real estate broker hoped he didn't give his friend the wrong impression of being rude. This was his opportunity to get know them better—all that were sitting at the table where he stopped.

"Excuse me," said Rory politely with an engaging smile. And each time he smiled, two dimples perched themselves above the corners of his lips. "I don't mean to intrude, but--,"

The Gaffer looked up and squinted at Rory. "You look familiar?"

"I'm Rory Hortlebower, and--,"

"Ah, I remember you now. You're the one who owns many hobbit holes in Staddle?"

Rory smiled again and acknowledged the Gaffer's question with a slight bow of his head. "Yes, you're correct."

"Join us," said the Gaffer, "Unless you have other plans?"

"No, not at the moment. Thank you."

While he sat beside Frodo, Rory noticed Tansy had looked very uneasy.

And then Sam broke the brief silence. "We met Mr. Hortlebower yesterday at the market."

"But--," Merry interrupted out of curiosity, "we haven't met." He leaned slightly forward across the table. "I'm Meridoc Brandybuck, known as Merry by most. He motioned his hand toward Estella sitting next to him. "This is Estella Bolger."

Rory acknowledged them with another polite tilt of his head.

"I'm Peregrin Took," he said hastily before Rory could utter anything else. "Most know me as Pippin."

"And I'm Diamond," she boldly announced.

Gracious, Rory accepted their warm introductions. "It's a pleasure meeting you all."

Frodo still found himself wary about the real estate broker, but he dismissed his feelings he thought foolish and nudged himself to be friendly.

"I want to thank you again for finding Calla and Elanor. They can be troublesome at times."

"You're quite welcome, Frodo. Troublesome you say?" said Rory and laughed a little. "Now I find that hard to believe."

"Oh, they're troublesome alright," Sam added without hesitation. "We've already had one babysitter quit and I hope the new one we have now can handle them."

And while this conversation carried on, Tansy kept quiet, keeping her eyes fixed on the ale she had yet to finish. Tansy could see him without looking directly to know that Rory sneaked a peek her way when he had the chance.

By then, the Gaffer steered the conversation in a different direction.

"I've heard many folk are moving to Staddle. Have you sold any hobbit holes recently?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I sold one last week," Rory answered humbly rather than arrogantly, what one would expect to hear from a real estate broker, and a wealthy one at that. But he spoke softly and always polite despite what he was. "Actually, I sold it to a couple who were married a few weeks ago--," He halted and upon recalling something, he went on to say, "I am very sorry. Excuse my rudeness. Frodo, Tansy...happy anniversary!"

Frodo smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Rory."

Mr. Hortlebower froze. His face, chalk-white like it was yesterday when he saw Tansy with Frodo. Someone stood a few feet away from the table—a beautiful lass dressed in burgundy like what Tansy wore.

With a beaming smile on her soft, red lips, Rory could hear her whisper...

"_Happy Anniversary."_

Once again, Rory wrestled with his thoughts.

_No. You're not here. You're not here!_

He blinked a few times and when the fog of confusion cleared before his eyes, his wife vanished.

"Mr. Hortlebower?" Rory heard Sam's voice, as if it echoed from an eerie and vast distance. "Are you all right?"

And now when Sam spoke, he heard everything clearly.

"Are you all right?" Sam repeated.

"Yes, I—I'm sorry." He sprang from the chair. "There's something I need to do. I bid you all good night."

"Good night," Some said and some were puzzled as they watched him rush away from the table.

Merry frowned and glanced at Pippin. "What happened?"

Pippin shrugged his shoulders. "I guess he didn't care much for our company."

* * *

Later that night, most of the hobbits had gone home. Only three tables were occupied with several hobbits that stayed behind for a few more pints and laughs.

Rory left his room and returned to the bar. Restless, he paced around until something caused him to stop short at one of the tables. At his foot lay a burgundy-beaded necklace. Rory bent to pick it up and when he grasped the necklace, he studied it closely until it dawned on him who it had belonged to.

"Tansy," he whispered.

Rory hurried from the inn for his cart that would take him to Bag End. As he embarked on to the cart, he noticed one of the wheels were quite rickety. He had no other option. Tansy would be devastated if she didn't have her necklace.

Before retiring to bed, Frodo visited the den. At the desk is where he sat and flipped through a few pages inside the Red Book. The 'Lord of the Rings' was the title he chose for what he had written. His adventure he told Bilbo once that turned out quite different. In his mind, Frodo still questioned if he would ever be healed completely. And he had to often fight the nagging voice that told him he made a wrong decision to stay in the Shire.

"Mr. Frodo?"

Surprised at the unexpectant voice of his gardener, Frodo looked up at Sam standing in the doorway.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," said Sam while both hands tugged at his suspenders. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Always delighted to see his dear friend, Frodo smiled warmly. "It's alright, Sam."

The stout hobbit walked toward Frodo and stopped near the desk. His eyes fell upon the Red Book and then they climbed back to Frodo. Though he tried to convince himself about time healing Frodo's wounds, Sam looked past his beloved master's smile and saw someone still troubled.

"Having those night terrors again are you?"

Hating to admit the truth, Frodo slowly nodded as he closed the Red Book. His hand remained atop the cover while he looked up at Sam.

"Yes, Sam. They continue to haunt me. I don't know if they will ever stop. But I won't give up. I won't give in to the madness of what happened. What helps me is that I have Tansy and Calla. Of course my friends and...you Sam."

Sam blushed and always shy when anyone praised him, especially his master.

"Mr. Frodo," said Sam humbly.

Frodo left his chair, stood in front of Sam and placed a loving hand on his gardener's shoulder.

"Frodo wouldn't have gotten very far without Sam."

Sam remembered those bittersweet words Frodo had told him during the beginning of the quest. Tears burned his eyes and then Sam slid his fingers over Frodo's right hand, squeezing it firmly in his own.

This time, they were both startled by the ringing of the doorbell.

Sam shot a puzzled look at Frodo. "Who can that be at this hour?"

Frodo with Sam not far behind him had strolled into the parlor and hesitated at the front door. Frodo listened for another ring and then there were none, just an eerie silence.

"Who is it?" asked Frodo sternly through the door.

A voice shouted back. "It's Rory."

"Rory?" Frodo whispered to Sam.

"What is he doing here?" Sam questioned.

It did them no good standing there wondering, and so Frodo opened the door.

"Hello again, Frodo, Sam," said Rory in his most polite voice. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour."

"Come in," Frodo insisted and shut the door behind Rory.

Mr. Hortlebower stepped inside the cozy parlor. "Thank you. Again, I am very sorry but I had to come."

"What's wrong?" asked Frodo.

"Well, I found this." Rory reached inside the pocket on his breeches. Whatever it was he held in his hand had now been revealed to them. On his palm lay the beaded necklace. "Frodo, I think it belongs to your wife."

Frodo took the necklace from Rory's hand. He held it up. The beads were embraced within a warm glow of fire light from the chandelier above. It certainly looked a lot like the necklace he bought for her. Baffled, Frodo shifted his attention back to Rory.

"It's Tansy's necklace, but I thought I saw her wearing it when we left the Green Dragon."

"Really?" answered Rory. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I--," Frodo hesitated. He doubted so much that he couldn't be sure of anything lately. "I don't know."

"Mr. Hortlebower?"

The three hobbits turned and saw Tansy standing in the distance.

"Tansy," Frodo called, "I need to show you something."

Curious about what Frodo wanted to show her, and why Rory was standing in the parlor of their hobbit hole, she strode toward her husband.

"Is this your necklace?" asked Frodo.

Tansy looked at it and then she shook her head. "It can't be. I have my necklace. I'll go and get it."

They waited but only for a short while. Tansy returned with her necklace—several beads dangled from her hand as she held on to the rose pendant.

"Here it is."

Surprised, Rory's eyes darted from her necklace; to the one he found and then they leapt back to Tansy.

"I thought it belonged to you?"

"It's alright, Mr. Hortlebower," she said. "I understand why you would think it belonged to me. They look so much alike."

"Well," Rory replied, embarrassed about the whole thing. "I must go. It's already late." He slipped the necklace back inside his pocket.

"Rory," said Frodo. "I'm sorry you came all this way, but again, I thank you for your kindness."

It wasn't the easiest task for him, though Rory managed to smile despite the embarrassment. "You're welcome. Good night."

"Good night," they said and when he left, Frodo quietly shut the door.

"I wonder who it belongs to?" said Sam. "I feel bad for the poor lass who lost it."

Frodo turned around to say, "There were so many lasses at the Green Dragon. It could belong to anyone, who I don't know."

They were jarred by a sudden crash outside the hobbit hole. What followed next...a deafening scream that roared through their ears and raised the hairs on their legs.

Sam raced to the door, yanked it open and looked out to see what had happened. His eyes wide, he yelled...

"Mr. Hortlebower!"

_**TBC**_

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**_A/N: Please let me know what you think!_**


	3. Homebound

**_Author's note: Hey everyone, again I'm very grateful for your reviews. They are most appreciated from the bottom of my heart!!! Here's the next chapter you've been waiting for. _**

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Disclaimer: I own nothing in Tolkien's world. But...I own Tansy, Calla and Rory.

* * *

They were jarred by a sudden crash outside the hobbit hole. What followed next...a deafening scream that roared through their ears and raised the hairs on their legs.

Sam raced to the door, yanked it open and looked out to see what had happened. His eyes wide, he yelled...

"Mr. Hortlebower!"

* * *

Chapter three: _**Homebound**_

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Sam rushed down the steps and through the white gate. Frodo wasn't far behind, catching up to his gardener as he sped toward Rory's cart. Surprisingly, the pony hadn't galloped away but remained where it stood. The cart lay lopsided on the ground with a missing wheel. Frodo looked for the wheel and when he found it, it lay a few feet from where Rory's body had been sprawled on the grass.

"Mr. Hortlebower!" shouted Sam and knelt beside Rory.

Rory grimaced. "My leg! I think it's broken."

"Mr. Frodo," said Sam, "help me lift him up. We have to get him back inside."

Frodo took Rory's arm, slinging it around his shoulder. Sam had done the same and then both hobbits carefully hoisted Rory from the ground. They carried him up the steps and inside the house. Rosie and Tansy hurried toward them.

Tansy gasped.

Mrs. Gamgee's lips fell. "What happened?"

Sam peeked briefly at Rory who seemed to drift in and out of unconsciousness. His face, sickly pale and glossed with sweat.

Sam answered his wife. "The wheel gave way from Mr. Hortlebower's cart."

Rory moaned and then he screamed again from the pain that relentlessly assaulted his right leg.

"Mr. Hortlebower," said Sam. "We're taking you to one of the guest rooms where you'll rest. Then we'll see if we can get the doctor--,"

"M-my doctor," Rory stammered. "Please..."

Sam nodded. "Alright, your doctor."

"He'll come at this hour?" said Tansy.

"He has to," Frodo replied. "Rory's in a lot of pain and his leg may be broken."

Sam and Frodo carried Rory down another hall where there were more guest rooms. Once inside, they gently lowered him on the bed. Worried about the hobbit from Staddle, Frodo watched Rory's head fall on to the pillow. He could see Rory had been relieved and thankful for their help. They gazed at one another and then Rory surrendered to unconsciousness that took him.

* * *

Frodo stood by the window and immersed in sunlight embracing him. He peered outside at Calla and Elanor frolicking on the field in back of the hobbit hole. Frodo smiled lovingly at his daughter and happy to see how close she was to Elanor, like sisters. And then...

"Wh—where am I?"

Frodo spun around to see Rory had awakened. "You're in my home. This is Bag End."

Nothing made sense to Rory at the moment until finally he won the battle over his temporary memory loss.

"Frodo?" Mr. Hortlebower whispered while he lay on the bed and tucked comfortably beneath thin layers of white linen.

Frodo took a few steps toward the bed and stood beside it. He crossed his arms behind his back. "Do you remember anything what happened?"

Rory's eyes leapt down to his leg hidden under the covers, and when he attempted to move it, he grimaced from the throbbing pain.

"Yes, I remember. How--," Rory faltered and wet his dry, cracked lips. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days," answered Frodo. "We were able to reach your doctor."

"My leg?"

Frodo nodded. "Yes, it's broken. The doctor braced it with some wood. I'm afraid it'll be some time before you can walk again. You may need to stay here for a few months so that your leg can mend properly."

Rory slowly shook his head. "Frodo, I don't want to be a burden--,"

"Rory," Frodo gently interrupted, "you're not a burden. What happened wasn't your fault. And besides, you've been very kind to us." Frodo ended those words with a smile he hoped had comforted Mr. Hortlebower.

Rory managed a weak smile that told Frodo how gracious he was and accepted their warm hospitality.

Frodo added, "Now, we have decided on taking turns when serving your meals. Are you hungry?"

Rory shook his head again. "No."

"You must eat."

"What time is it?"

"Time for dinner soon. It would be best if you have chicken soup. You need your strength while you get better."

"Alright," Rory uttered weakly.

Frodo crossed around the bed and toward the door.

"Frodo?"

Mr. Baggins halted at the circle and then he turned around. "Yes?"

"What happened?" asked Rory, quite irritated at how he struggled to speak.

Puzzled, Frodo scrunched his brows. "You don't remember?"

"I mean, what happened when—when you left Bag End?"

All Frodo could do was stare at him. Speechless despite what he wanted to say. And again, he scolded himself for his foolish thinking. Rory wasn't a stupid man. Why wouldn't he notice he only had four fingers? And if he didn't notice with his eyes, news travels fast into most hobbits' ears in the Shire.

"Your hand," Rory continued, "it must have been dreadful."

Frodo nervously clenched his four fingers into a fist. "You need to rest. When you're better I promise we will talk then." He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. Frodo collapsed against it and squeezed his eyes shut.

_I wish I could forget. I wish none of it had ever happened._

And before he gave in to the tears that threatened to seep from the corners of his eyes, Frodo composed himself and solemnly walked down the tunneled hall.

* * *

The next few days at the end of June, a bedridden Rory Hortlebower had been very well taken care of. He appreciated every kind thing they had done for him. Still, it made him uncomfortable to be homebound. Rory never depended on anyone and now he had absolutely no choice but to rely on someone to help.

Inside the Baggins and Gamgee kitchen, they all sat around the table feasting on chicken with mushrooms and lots of potatoes. Tea was what they drank. For dessert were seed cakes, strawberry cakes (of course) and other delectable delicacies.

Calla sat in her seat always beside Elanor. "Daddy, when can we see Mr. Hortlebower?"

Frodo looked around at his daughter so inquisitive but in a quiet way.

"You can see him when he's awake and after he's had something to eat." Frodo peeked at Tansy, then at Sam and Rosie. "Whose turn is it to give Rory his dinner?"

Sam and Rosie glanced at one another.

Tansy knew it wouldn't be long before all eyes were on her and now she was spotlighted, something she never liked. Even now, after all she had endured and matured because of it, the shy Tansy Puddifoot would show herself again during those moments.

"It's my turn," said Tansy with a strained smile on her lips. And despite feeling apprehensive, she took her turn as Rory's nurse that evening.

* * *

Tansy knocked twice upon the door. She listened for his voice. Hearing only silence, she assumed he was sleeping. Tansy had to make sure. She gently turned the knob with her left hand. With the other, she carried a tray that held a bowl of warm chicken soup and one piece of bread cut from the loaf. She stepped inside and eased toward the chair next to Rory's bed. Tansy stopped suddenly. She watched him while he slept. A restless sleep. His face thrashed from side to side. In her mind, she asked the question...

_Bad dreams? What could they be?_

Uncanny it was, how he reminded her of Frodo.

Rory sprang from the pillow. "Holly!" he shouted. His face damp with a hot sweat. He turned to see Tansy at his bedside and catching his breath as if he had been running a long way. "Holly?" he repeated, dazed and unaware of his surroundings at the moment.

"It's Tansy," she gently reminded him.

Realizing where he had been and who she was, Rory greeted her with a weak, lopsided grin. "Tansy," he whispered.

She smiled back. "Mr. Hortlebower."

"When will you ever call me, Rory?"

Tansy smiled again. "Rory...I have chicken soup for you."

"Ah, thank you."

Tansy placed the tray on to the night table. After she had done that, she propped the two pillows so Rory would be comfortable as he lay his back against them. Tansy sat down and carefully reached for the bowl.

"Here's your soup." She said and handed it to him.

"Thank you," Rory graciously replied and cradled the bowl in his hands. He stirred the broth and sipped a little from off the spoon. "Mmm...delicious."

"Sam cooked it. His soups are very delicious. He's a wonderful cook. Everything he cooks...it's...delicious!" Tansy halted and sighed. "I'm sorry to babble like that."

"Do I make you nervous?" Rory asked, taking another sip of the broth. When she hesitated in replying, he looked at her.

Tansy shook her head. "No."

"Really?" Rory dunked the spoon back into the soup. "I remember the day we met in Bree. You were nervous then. And when we met again at the market."

"I was only surprised to see you is all."

"I was surprised to see you too—with Frodo."

Irritated, Tansy sighed again. "Mr. Hortlebower, you can be very brash at times, like now."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you. It surprised me to see you with Frodo because, well, that day when you told me he was gone, I assumed he had died."

Tansy clasped her tense hands together upon her lap. "I could not tell you everything. So I understand why you thought he was dead. But he came back."

"Back from where?"

"From the Grey Havens. He was to sail off with the elves to Valinor."

Rory scrunched his thick brows. "Where?"

"To—oh, you don't know?"

"Elves? Valinor? I'm not one who knows much about elves or Valinor you speak of. I haven't gone on any adventures like Frodo and Bilbo, though I would like to hear about their adventures one day. Well, after Frodo came back, that explains why you never returned. Remember? I promised to show you the hobbit holes when you felt better?"

"Even before Frodo returned, I didn't come back because I—I felt I needed to stay here in Bag End. I guess you can say, hope kept me from leaving...the hope of seeing Frodo again."

No words were uttered from his lips. He only smiled, and then came the awkward silence—silence Tansy despised when it crept between her and someone she chatted with. She broke the annoying silence with questions of her own.

"How is the pain?"

"Right now it isn't so bad. The herbs are very helpful. But in the middle of the night, the pain comes again."

"When I came in, you were having a bad dream."

"You dream many strange things when you're not well, Tansy."

"Was it about Holly? You called me Holly. Who is she?"

Rory looked away from Tansy. He swallowed hard against his dry throat while solemnly staring into the soup. "Holly...she was my wife. And...I had a daughter, Lea."

"Where are they now?"

Rory shook his head and then silence fell heavily in the atmosphere around them. Mr. Hortlebower kept his eyes on the soup but this time he had broken the silence.

"You have a beautiful daughter, Tansy, and Frodo...he loves you. Anyone can see that. You're a devoted wife to him...like Holly. You remind me of her."

And when his gaze fleeted back to her, Tansy wondered if he could see her tremble a little. She never thought she would see him again, especially not in this situation; never able to forgive herself for the attraction she felt for Rory when they met. It shocked her to feel such a thing.

"But it was only a moment," she thought. "I didn't want it to happen. That day, he reminded me so much of Frodo, not that he looks like him. No, it's something else..." Tansy stopped the rambling in her head. "Mr. Hortlebower, I mean, Rory," she said aloud, "Are you done with your soup?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I wasn't very hungry."

"Well, at least you're eating more than you had a few days ago." Tansy took the bowl away from him and when she nervously carried the soup back to the table, it slipped and clanked on to the wooden tray. Some broth splattered in the process and when Tansy saw the mess she had made, she berated the 'clumsy' part of her she always hated.

"Hmph!" she murmured.

"It's all right, Tansy," he said in a soothing voice that told her not to worry about the mess.

A little smile sneaked its way into the corner of her lips. She shrugged off the trivial incident and unpropped his pillows so that he could lay his head down. And as she slid the covers up to the open collar of his nightshirt, questions about him taunted her again.

_What happened to your family?_

"Thank you, Tansy."

Smiling shyly, she answered, "You're very welcome. Rest now."

Tansy opened the door so that candlelight from many sconces inside the hall would be her guide. With one blow Tansy smothered the lantern's flame. She carried the tray, stepping into the subtle path of firelight. Mrs. Baggins glanced over her shoulder at Rory. She couldn't see if he had closed his eyes. And if he was sleeping, she hoped the bad dreams would spare him this night—something she often pleaded for Frodo.

* * *

Tansy returned to the kitchen, just in time to hear Sam babbling.

"You know what my Gaffer said about Rory," he gossiped to Frodo and Rosie while Elanor and Calla were playing inside the parlor with their Raggedy Ann style dolls.

"His mother died at a young age from an illness. He was very close to his father and when he died, his father left him all the hobbit holes he owns now--," Sam hesitated, feeling the eyes of someone else and when he looked up, there he saw Tansy holding the tray.

"He's sleeping now," said Tansy and pondered what she heard Sam say about Rory's parents.

"Good," Rosie replied, "He needs all the rest he can get."

Frodo stared at his wife and knowing her so very well, her body language gave it all away—something disturbed Tansy, and he had to find out what it could be.

All was quiet inside the Baggins and Gamgee home. Frodo had taken the usual promenade down the hall and at the moment his hand reached for the brass knob of his bedroom door, another door creaked open.

"Daddy?"

Frodo looked down at the end of the hall where Calla and Elanor slept in their room.

"Calla?"

In her ruffled white night dress, Calla scurried toward Frodo.

"What is it?" he wondered.

"I can't sleep, Daddy."

"No?" Frodo reached down and hoisted her into his arms. As he walked to the end of the hall, he went on to say, "And why can't you sleep?"

"I'm frightened."

Frodo stopped at the door. "Of what?"

Calla circled her little arms around his neck. "I'm afraid if I go to sleep, I won't see you in the morning."

"You'll see me tomorrow. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise me you won't."

Baffled, Frodo said, "Calla--," Then it dawned on him why she was afraid. Though it had been a long while since his return from the Grey Havens, Calla still had trouble sleeping. Frodo quietly entered the room where Elanor slept soundlessly.

"Calla," he whispered in her ear, "I promise I'll never leave you and mummy. I know I've left before but that won't happen again." Frodo eased toward Calla's bed only a few feet from where Elanor slept. When he attempted to lay her down on to the bed, Calla's arms clung around his neck. "I promise," he repeated with an assurance that lifted her lips into a perky smile.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too."

Frodo attempted again, and this time Calla loosened her grip around his neck. He gently lowered his daughter on to the bed and lovingly slipped the covers over her small form.

"Good night," he said and gave Calla a warm kiss upon her forehead.

"Good night," she whispered back.

Frodo smiled proudly. He waited until she closed her eyes. That is when he left and had gone to his own room where Tansy sat at her oak-wood vanity table. He stood not far behind his wife, watching her. His eyes followed every movement of her hand as she brushed her shoulder-length curls. Tansy spun around on the paisley cushioned bench, jolting him out of his dreamy trance.

"There you are. I've wondered when you would come to bed."

"Calla couldn't sleep so I tucked her back into bed."

"Oh?" said a worried Tansy.

Frodo took a seat on the bench beside his wife. "You remember what happened when I came back from the Grey Havens. She feared I would leave again. She still does." He paused and let out a deep sigh. "Sometimes I feel like Calla...afraid...afraid of what I've become after the war of the ring. I'm home but nothing has changed."

"What do you mean nothing has changed?" said Tansy while holding the brush in her hands. "The Shire has been saved. You risked your own life to save it."

"Yes," he murmured dejectedly, "but it doesn't seem to matter to most folk. All they see is Frodo Baggins who went off on a cracked adventure like his uncle and returned with four fingers."

"Frodo, it does you no good to be worrying about what the folk are thinking. What matters is that you've done something most would have turned away. And there are those who are very proud of you. Don't forget your friends...and me."

Frodo's face lit up with a wide grin. Desiring to taste her lips, he kissed them tenderly. Breaking away from the kiss, Tansy touched his lips and traced them sensuously with the tips of her fingers.

"I'll be back," she whispered against his ear. "I need to freshen up a bit."

Frodo smiled again. "Alright."

He watched her leave the room. For a short while, he remained on the bench until the bed caught his attention. He left the bench and walked over to the bed. Before he undressed, Frodo peeled back the covers. He knew they would have their usual talks before making love or going to sleep. So he propped Tansy's pillows first. Then Frodo crossed to the left side where he slept and when he propped his pillows, he stumbled backward. Frodo gasped, lips parted, but the words...frozen, he could not utter. There peeking out from beneath the pillow was a long, serrated knife.

Perplexed, Frodo's hand inched carefully toward the knife. Grasping it in his hand, he watched it gleaming, almost evilly in the candlelight that shown upon it. Frightened, his thoughts raced.

_How did this get here? I don't remember putting it there. And why should I? Is it possible I did it and don't remember? Is it?_

Startled by a click of the door creaking open.

Frodo's eyes leapt from the knife.

"Tansy..."

**_A/N: I couldn't resist giving you another one of my evil cliffhangers...ducks head at objects thrown at her, LOL...let me know what you think of this chapter! _**


	4. Of Suspicion and Doubt

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, especially after a cliffhanger. I've been very busy with other stuff. I hope you like it because the nasty writer's block returned but I managed to get past it and finish this. Please let me know what you think!**

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Perplexed, Frodo's hand inched carefully toward the knife. Grasping it in his hand, he watched it gleaming, almost evilly in the candlelight that shone upon it. Frightened, his thoughts raced.

_How did this get here? I don't remember putting it there. And why should I? Is it possible I did it and don't remember? Is it?_

Startled by a 'click' of the door creaking open.

Frodo's eyes leapt from the knife.

"Tansy..."

* * *

Chapter Four: _**Of Suspicion and Doubt**_

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Frodo shoved the knife back under the pillow.

"Frodo?" said Tansy, puzzled about his frightened expression while shutting the door. Her floral, ruffled nightdress swung around her stout legs as she hurried to his side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly and unconvincingly. And then Frodo plopped onto the bed's edge.

Tansy sat beside him. "I know that look, Frodo. Something happened while I was gone."

Reluctantly, Frodo slipped his hand beneath the pillow and out came the knife.

Tansy gasped. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear. "Frodo, what—what are you doing with that knife?"

He gazed upon it, slowly shaking his head. "I found it under the pillow. I don't know how it got there." When he heard only silence from Tansy, Frodo's eyes shot up to meet hers. "I didn't put it there, at least I don't remember doing so."

Tansy's gaze dropped cautiously to the knife. "I'll take it back into the kitchen."

She took it carefully from his hand and as she was about to leave, Frodo touched her shoulder, turning her around to face him.

"Tansy, you believe me don't you?"

Unable to say anything at the moment, and unable to hide her frown of bewilderment, she only stared in deep thought at the knife.

Frodo grew ever more frustrated by her silence, and yet he understood why it would be difficult for her to answer. He could not comprehend it all himself.

"Go on," he said hastily, "Get it out of here."

Tansy nodded and left his side. As she closed the door, she peeked at him through the small opening, watching the back of him with sorrowful eyes while he remained on the bed's edge, hanging his head in shame or was it confusion? Tansy did not know what to think and when she left the door open just a little, she had gone into the kitchen. She opened the pantry door and carefully lay the silver knife along with the others. Concerned for her husband and fear of losing him again to the madness that stirred her heart racing. Though she tried with all her mental strength to silence the nagging voices of doubt, they grew louder and louder in her mind.

_I want to believe you, Frodo. But...how did the knife get there? And what did you plan on doing with it?_

Frodo undressed into his nightshirt. He buttoned it except for a few left undone at the collar. He looked up when Tansy returned to the room. No words were uttered to each other. Frodo climbed into bed. Tansy stood over the lantern, smothering the flame with one blow, and when they were suddenly plunged into darkness, Tansy slipped beneath the covers and snuggled behind him. Their faces barely noticeable in pale moonlight obscured by thin clouds.

"I know you don't believe me," Frodo whispered. His solemn blue eyes wandered up to the round window.

"Frodo--,"

"Shh," he said quietly, "I just want you to hold me."

Tansy slid her hand beneath Frodo's arm and hugged his waist.

Frodo let his fingers glide over her hand and squeezed it gently into his own. Sleep wanted to come but delayed by what he could not comprehend. And now his fears returned, assaulting him with confusion and doubt.

_It can't be happening again. No. No._

* * *

A week since then, Rory awoke in the morning to see Sam sitting at his bedside.

"Good Morning!" said a cheery Sam Gamgee.

"Good Morning," Rory answered, not so cheerful like Sam's greeting. Still groggy from his deep slumber most of the night.

Sam hopped onto his feet and patted two wooden crutches that lay against the wall near Rory's bed. Rory wondered what Sam was patting and when he lifted his head a little to see what it was, his head fell back onto the pillow.

"Oh come now, Mr. Hortlebower," said Sam, "You can't stay in that bed forever. You have to start walking if you want that leg to mend properly. Even your doctor said so when he'd come see you in the evenings. And besides, we want you to join us when we have our picnics. What fun is it if you stay in that bed and never go out?"

Rory peeked at the crutches. And then the old Rory Hortlebower, the perky hobbit seemed to come alive again and rewarded Sam with a wide, grateful smile for his encouraging words. "You're right, Sam. I don't plan on staying in this bed forever. Hand me those crutches."

* * *

During the times Rory hobbled around and down the halls, the Bagginses and Gamgees wondered if he would ever walk properly. Especially when Rory frequently lost his balance and fall, but Rory never gave up. One day, after most of his strength returned, Rory stepped outside and hopped around to the back of the hobbit hole. Though the July sun blazed down upon him, he looked around at the lush greenlands of Hobbiton, cherishing what could easily be taken away from you in an unexpected second.

"Rory?"

Standing with both crutches tucked beneath his arms, he turned around and a wide grin lifted his dimples and brightened his face at the sight of Tansy coming toward him.

"What a beautiful day it is!" he cheered.

Halting in front of him in a bright yellow-floral dress, as if embraced in vibrant sunlight, she smiled warmly at the hobbit wearing an olive green shirt and dark breeches. "It's good to hear you say those words again."

"It's good to be outside, breathing the fresh Shire air, something I've missed greatly. Something I don't want to ever take for granted."

Tansy froze at hearing those words, reminding her of what Frodo surely felt when he was gone...missing the Shire. She tugged herself out of deep thought and could only give him a shy smile.

Rory often found himself admiring her smile, wishing he could tell her so.

"Rory?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?"

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have broken your leg."

Taken a back by what she said, his thick brows scrunched above squinting green eyes. "What ever do you mean?"

"The necklace you found. You thought it was mine."

"Yes, but that isn't your fault." Rory sensed they weren't alone, not that anyone was around. And yet, he felt...eyes...watching from some place. And when he peered over Tansy's shoulder, Rory glimpsed the curious blue eyes of Frodo Baggins staring at them from the bedroom window. Rory's attention roved back to Mrs. Baggins. "Please, Tansy, don't blame yourself for what happened."

Tansy nodded, though she still felt terrible about his accident.

Uneasy about Frodo watching them, Rory said, "I'm going off to take a little walk."

Frodo stood at the window. His eyes followed Tansy as she walked back toward the front of the hole, and then they darted to Rory who hopped in the opposite direction. His attention so fixated on them that he had been unaware of Sam standing a few feet behind him.

"Mr. Frodo?"

As if startled out of a daydream, Frodo glanced at Sam who now stood beside him.

"Sam? I didn't hear you come in."

"I know," said Sam and very concerned about his beloved master. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Frodo hated to tell Sam about the strange things that have been going on, but he could not keep it to himself any longer. "Sam," he began and crossed tense arms against his chest. "I should have told you before but I thought maybe it would go away."

Sam grew more and more alarmed at what he saw, fear in which Frodo clearly expressed. "What is it, Mr. Frodo?"

"A few weeks ago, I found a knife under my pillow."

"A knife?"

Frodo slowly nodded. "I didn't put it there, Sam. I don't understand how it got there. Since then, I would find it under my pillow, again and again."

"Does Tansy know?"

"She knows about the first time it happened, but not the other times. And I know she doesn't believe me when I told her I don't remember putting it there."

Baffled, the gardener frowned.

"Sam?" Frodo uttered softly, waiting for his loyal friend to say something.

"You think it's those night terrors again?"

Flustered, the gentle hobbit uncrossed his arms and slumped onto the bed. "I don't know what to think, Sam. It's possible I've walked in my sleep, but why would I--," Frodo's eyes flashed wide with dread that alarmed Sam even more. And when the gardener sat gingerly beside him, Frodo continued. "Oh no, Sam."

"Mr. Frodo?" said a very worried Sam Gamgee.

"What if I'm trying to hurt myself or Tansy?"

"I don't think that's what you're doing--,"

"Then what I'm I doing?" Frodo snapped. "Why do I find the knife under my pillow? For what reason other than wanting to hurt myself, Tansy or--."

_Maybe even you, Sam or Rosie? Rory or... the children?_

"No, Mr. Frodo, I don't believe it. I don't."

Flooded with emotions of suspicion...Frodo pondered about Tansy's friendship with Rory, thinking they seemed too close.

Of fear...feeling the madness return, taunting him again.

Of doubt...can he ever have a normal life, like he once had in the Shire?

Mentally exhausted, Frodo gently leaned his head onto Sam's shoulder. Sam lay his head against the smooth cushion of Frodo's curly hair. The gardener tried to convince himself that this too will pass. Just like all the other times when Frodo's anniversary illnesses came around, and the times when he had horrendous night terrors. But this was different. Frodo never talked about any knife hidden under his pillow. It frightened Sam. It frightened him very much.

That night, Sam sat inside the study. Tired from the heaviness that burdened his mind.

_Mr. Frodo_

His face lay upon the table, hidden in a cradle that were his arms.

"Sam?"

He peeked up from the table and stared into the beautiful face of Rosie Cotton Gamgee.

"Rosie?"

She sat across from him. "If you're tired, you should come to bed."

"I know," said Sam and straightened himself in the chair. "I just wanted to be alone for a while."

Rosie leaned over the table; the golden curls of her hair fell gracefully onto her shoulders. "You didn't seem yourself all day. Now I know when something's bothering you, Samwise Gamgee."

Sam breathed and then he stared sincerely into Rosie's eyes. "It's Mr. Frodo. He's having those night terrors again. But they seem worse than before."

"Worse?"

"Well," he hesitated and decided to go on. "He told me about a knife under his pillow and he doesn't know how it got there. It's not only once. It's happened many times."

Rosie gasped and slapped her hand against her lips. "No, Sam, I thought he was getting better?"

"He'll be all right, Rosie." His gaze fell timidly onto the desk.

Rosie slid her hand over his.

Sam peeked up again and saw concern evident on Rosie's face. And at the same time, aware of a danger he could not deny, recalling what Frodo said...

"_For what reason other than wanting to hurt myself, Tansy or..."_

Frodo never finished the rest of what he wanted to say, but Sam had a feeling his master feared hurting him and everyone he loved dearly.

* * *

Several more days passed and now it was Friday. Hot, but delightful. One can say, how can a hot day be delightful? Well, when the Bagginses and Gamgees had picnics, even on a hot day they were able to have a great time. Merry and Pippin didn't mind much either while they all sat in pleasant shade beneath a willow tree. Spread out on a powder blue crocheted blanket (which Tansy had made) was the usual buffet. But this time, it wasn't only Sam who cooked. Everyone shared in cooking the picnic meal—even Merry and Pippin.

Everyone ate heartily, joked and laughed. Then there were moments Frodo just listened and watched. His eyes sneakily roamed to Rory who seated himself against the tree. He examined the way Rory seemed to have a knack of entertaining Calla and Elanor—both girls sat in front of the perky hobbit, giggling while Rory babbled on with a fable about two hobbit girls. And when Tansy joined them, seemingly curious about Rory's story, Frodo slowly rose onto his feet and strolled away from the picnic. He could have dashed away, but that would only incite the others to worry about him.

Frodo meandered a few feet away to a tree stump and sat upon it. He always wondered what happened to the tree. All he knew was that it had been there before he left the Shire, and when he returned, it was gone. He stared down into the vibrant grass, as if that held his attention. Actually, something else weighed heavily on his mind, what he had to escape from only a few moments ago.

Footsteps shuffled through pebbles behind him.

"Frodo?"

He spun around and looked up into Tansy's pudgy face. Her soft red curls flowed from a vine of pink and white roses that entwined itself around the ponytail. Her hair Frodo always admired and the many dresses he bought. Among them, pink and white, which she had worn especially for the picnic.

"Aren't you having fun?" she asked and sat on the stump beside him.

Ignoring her question, he boldly asked one of his own. "Tansy, have you told me everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"About Rory, when you met him that day. You said he wanted to show you the hobbit-holes."

"Yes."

"And that is all?"

"Yes," Tansy answered softly and wondered if Frodo sensed her irritation at his question. And so she kept her voice as gentle as she could. "Nothing else happened between us," she assured him. "I'm telling you the truth, Frodo. I never saw him again until the day at the Market."

Frodo shook his head and smirked at his actions he thought ridiculous. "I'm sorry, Tansy. You know I haven't been well again. And when I'm not well, I utter foolish things."

"Daddeeee!" Calla screamed excitedly while skipping toward her parents.

Frodo jumped up from where he sat and whisked Calla into his arms.

"Come back to the picnic, daddy!" Little Calla pleaded.

"Yes," Tansy insisted with a warm, graceful smile. "We missed you, and...we love you."

_We love you..._those three words had momentarily calmed his fears and suspicions, and then he found himself, along with Calla, embraced lovingly in Tansy's arms.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Frodo's eyes snapped open. His ears perked. Outside, something rustling in the grass. Frodo sat up. He turned, glancing at Tansy sleeping peacefully.

The rustling again.

Frodo swung around at the window. His eyes wide with bewilderment, curiosity and fear. But curiosity had won, beckoning him to go out and investigate the mysterious rustling. Quietly as he could, Frodo quickly dressed into a shirt and breeches, yanking the suspenders onto his shoulders.

In the hall, he stepped out with a lantern that guided him. Slowly, cautiously, he headed toward the front door.

_It's the Witch-king, Frodo. He's not dead. He's returned for you. Don't go out. He's there!_

Frodo halted. His mouth suddenly dry. And the pain, he felt it again, stinging. The wound inflicted by the Witch-king. Though now a scar, to Frodo, it would always be like a fresh wound.

Wrestling with his fears and reminding himself that the Witch-king was dead, slaughtered by Eowyn and Merry, he marched onward and outside the hole. He scampered down the steps and out through the white gate. Footsteps came to an abrupt halt and started again. Frodo turned in the direction of where they seemed to echo from—the lane. The lane he traveled on with Sam when they left Bag End on that day in September...

When the madness began.

Cautiously, Frodo took small steps down the lane so menacing, so dark, that it seemed the lantern's light had been afraid, flickering timidly and not much of a guide. And then everything happened quickly, so fast that Frodo had no time to even utter a scream as he was plunged in pitch darkness.

TBC

**A/N: I know, a short chapter and another cliffhanger, but...this time I promise I won't leave you waiting so long. Thank you for your patience. You guys are awesome!!!**


	5. Labyrinth

**A/N: After reading this chapter again, I changed the rape thing. I just thought it was unrealistic. Hope you guys like it better!**

* * *

_Footsteps came to an abrupt halt and started again. Frodo turned in the direction of where they seemed to echo from—the lane. The lane he traveled on with Sam when they left Bag End on that day in September..._

_When the madness began._

_Cautiously, Frodo took small steps down the lane so menacing, so dark, that it seemed the lantern's light had been afraid, flickering timidly and not much of a guide. And then everything happened quickly, so fast that Frodo had no time to even utter a scream as he was plunged in pitch darkness._

* * *

Chapter Five: _**Labyrinth **_

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Frodo searched frantically for the lantern he had lost. On his knees, his hands groped through grass in the darkness. No light of the moon to help him.

_Where is it?_

He hesitated for a moment, wincing from the pain that hammered inside his head. When he touched his forehead, Frodo thought he felt a sticky liquid, unable to comprehend what it could be. His body told him not to go on. Exhausted and nauseated from the throbbing pain. He wanted to just lie there but he had to move on and if possible, escape the woods. The last thing Frodo remembered was venturing out on the lane after footsteps he heard.

"How did I get here?" he thought. "I have to get back."

Frodo rose unsteadily onto his feet and shoved himself onward.

_Where are you going?_

Frodo wished he knew where. Was he going in the direction that led to Bag End? How could he know in the dark? All he could do was hope—hope that where he walked took him back to his comfy hole.

"Why did I go out?" he said angrily to himself. "Why?"

The weary Frodo Baggins trudged onward through the woods. Every now and then, a slight breeze cooled his hot, clammy skin. Then came a voice, whispering, badgering...

_Poor Frodo, you've lost your way?_

Frodo ignored it, continuing on but the gruff voice refused to go away, torturing him relentlessly.

_No need to hurry back home. You won't find Tansy or Calla there. They died in a fire. Don't you remember, Frodo? You were upset with Tansy because she wasn't there for you, after everything you had gone through to destroy the ring. You return to the Shire and she doesn't love you anymore. How can she love someone with only four fingers? She felt shame to be with you. And so you both argue, blind to what Calla was doing with the lantern. She knocked it over. The fire started. _

"Who are you?" Frodo shouted aloud as he stumbled through the woods, feeling like he was going around in circles—a never-ending labyrinth.

_You blamed yourself for what happened, because in the past you tried to hurt Tansy. The knife, Frodo. I'm sure you remember that, too. You would hide it under your pillow and wait for the right time. But you didn't need to use the knife. The fire had taken care of what you desired. The only thing you regret was Calla dying. You never wanted anything to happen to her. _

"Stop it!" Frodo screamed.

_And now you're lost. How can you find your way back? _

"Tansy and Calla are alive!" Frodo's eyes searched for a light he desperately needed to see, and the face of whoever was tormenting him. All he could make out was the outline of trees. They were friendly during the day. At night they seemed to morph into something menacing, like they did now as they towered over him.

The voice taunted him further...

_You want to believe they're alive. No, Frodo, they're dead...and you killed them. It's not you're fault. It's the ring and it's too late, Frodo. It has already destroyed you. It's too late..._

"Noooo!" Frodo had to escape this unseen person. His feet hastened through the grass and now he found himself running—running in every direction that led to no where. His heart pummeled madly. His head throbbed again. Suddenly he lost balance, tripping over what felt like a branch. His hands sprang out in front of him, breaking his fall as he collided onto the bed of grass.

He lay there, gasping for breath. Frodo looked up at the menacing trees again. They seemed to loom closer as if in a moment, ready to snatch him in their angry grasp.

_It's too late, Frodo. Too late..._

* * *

Tansy sat nervously at the kitchen table. The morning sun had returned to the Shire with its brilliance—something that often brightened Tansy's face with a cheerful smile. At the moment, not even the sun could lift her spirits. She bit her bottom lip and twirled jittery fingers around one another while both hands lay upon her lap. On that morning, the breakfast had been delayed. Food was the furthest from her mind and everyone else, especially when Tansy awoke to find Frodo sprawled across the bed in his nightshirt. Blood had left its sticky, dry trail on the left side of his face. Tansy remembered the fright and shock of finding her husband unconscious. Now, she waited and wondered if he would be all right.

Another several minutes passed.

Someone came over and stood by her side.

Tansy looked up into the face of her best friend, Rosie.

And Rosie said to her, "He's awake."

Tansy rushed into the room to find Frodo sitting up. His back propped against two pillows. The blood on his face had been cleaned away. As Tansy sat beside him on the edge of the bed, she wished she could say he looked better. Blood wasn't the only thing that had marred his face only a few hours ago. Fear, exhaustion and worry began to show itself as a tiny smudge of dark circles beneath his eyes. Tansy slid her fingers over his left hand and gently caressed it.

"Frodo," she said quietly. "I was so worried about you. How is your head?"

Frodo's four-fingered hand reached up and rubbed the top of his head. "It still hurts. Sam said it's swollen a little but I will be all right. He also said I walked in my sleep again but I didn't. I was fully awake when I left this room last night. I remember hearing a noise outside, footsteps. I wondered who could be lurking about and so I quickly dressed. I went out and--," Frodo grimaced, straining his mind to remember what had happened next. And when he recalled something else, he continued on. "I was walking down the lane and after that, I awoke in the woods, injured, but I don't remember how it happened. I felt so alone in the dark, and yet I wasn't alone."

"Who else could have been there?" asked Tansy.

Slowly, Frodo shook his head while staring straight ahead. "I don't know. I didn't see who it was but I heard his voice."

"His voice?"

Suddenly Frodo's eyes were wide again. Terrified, his gaze darted sharply to his wife. "It told me you and Calla had died in a fire and--," When Frodo recalled the rest of what the voice uttered to him, all color had been drained from his face and replaced with a ghastly pale hue. Frodo grasped Tansy's hand. "Tansy, what if I'm walking in my sleep and my mind is playing tricks on me? What if I do something terrible and don't remember? It's happened before!"

"I don't understand? How could you have walked in your sleep last night? You were here with me. I awoke and then we kissed and held each other."

"What?" said a puzzled Frodo. "I don't remember any of it!" Frustrated, his face fell onto his palms. "It's happening again," he mumbled against sweaty palms and then his face leapt from his shaky hands. He stared sorrowfully into her soft, cinnamon eyes. "Tansy, you must take Calla and leave."

Dismayed, Tansy answered, "Leave? Why?"

"If you stay here, you and Calla may be in danger. Tansy, I'm not well. What if I walk in my sleep again? But then, maybe I should leave. It's not only you and Calla I fear hurting."

Tansy shook her head in disagreement. "No. We're not leaving. And I don't want you to leave either."

"When I was in the woods," Frodo began softly. "At least, it seemed that's where I've been, I felt like I was walking in circles. I could not find my way out of the woods and back to Bag End. Tansy, in my mind, I still feel I'm in that 'maze' and I can't escape."

Tansy's eyes burned from her hot tears. Her gaze fell solemnly onto her hand that cradled his. "If you were to leave, where would you go?" She questioned, fearing he would mention Valinor.

Frodo shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

Tears streamed down Tansy's soft cheeks. "I don't want you to leave again. You promised me and Calla. We've been through this before and we can get through it again."

Frodo looked up and when he saw trails of tears snaking down her cheeks, he tenderly smudged them away. "I know I promised I wouldn't leave." Frodo, so confused about everything, had breathed. And out from his lungs came a long, exasperated sigh. "I don't know what to do, Tansy."

"Just stay," Tansy insisted. She huddled beside him and lay her head onto his chest. "Please, Frodo. We can get through this."

Frodo circled his arm around Tansy's shoulder. His thoughts journeyed back to the Quest and if it weren't for Sam, he knew the task would have been impossible without him. Even now, Sam was by his side along with Tansy. Despite his doubts, he could not forget their love and encouragement for him to press on in the midst of another assault from the past.

Frodo could only muster a feeble grin while embracing Tansy close to him. "Alright. I'll stay."

* * *

The month that was August drew near. And each day that passed, fear, in which Tansy thought had finally eluded her since Frodo chose to stay in the Shire, had tormented her once again. Alone, she sat in the chair opposite the fireplace. It slept for now and would soon awaken at the first sign of autumn's return. Her stout form was barely recognizable in dim candlelight emanating from two lanterns seated upon the mantle. She sat in silence, staring gravely at the fireplace.

Frodo...his nightmares were getting worse. They've been through it all before. Those dark times during his illnesses when it seemed death had been near to claim him. What was so different now? Tansy knew the answer, what terrified her even more...the knife he repeatedly found beneath his pillow. And though she hated to admit it to herself, she was very afraid of what Frodo would do, perhaps in the middle of the night when she and everyone were sleeping.

Someone stepped in front, blocking her view of the fireplace. Tansy blinked and looked up at Sam staring back with much concern in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered politely. "I don't mean to disturb you, Tansy. I just wanted to see how you were keeping is all."

Mrs. Baggins greeted him with a smile, an unconvincing one she had been aware of and wondered if it sneaked past Sam's keen eyes. Tansy had a feeling it didn't while she continued to look up at him. "You're not disturbing me, Sam. I can't sleep so that's why I'm sitting here."

Sam sat in a chair a few feet from Tansy. There had been an awkward silence between them for a moment and then Tansy decided to be honest with him about what burdened her mind.

"Sam, do you think Frodo should have gone to Valinor?"

"Frodo will get better. He's just going through another one of his illnesses."

"Do you think he should have gone to Valinor?" Tansy repeated firmly.

Sam breathed and frustrated, his forehead fell onto the palm of his left hand. "That day when Mr. Frodo went back with us, Merry and Pippin I mean, I was so happy he didn't leave. But..."

"You wonder," Tansy interrupted, "if he would have been better off in Valinor?"

Sam straightened himself and leaned forward, closer to her than he was before. "He needed to be with you and Calla."

"I know that, Sam, but he's suffering. Yes, there were many days the illnesses left him alone. Now he's suffering again, worse than before. His delusions about the knife—I'm very frightened, Sam."

"We're all very concerned, Tansy, and frightened. I've never seen Mr. Frodo like this."

Tansy clenched tense hands together upon her lap hidden beneath a sky blue dress and white apron. "I thought when he came back to the Shire, everything would be all right, not that I didn't expect him to be sick anymore. I thought, well, I would never lose him again. Now--,"

Sam leaned closer. "Tansy, you won't lose him."

Tansy doubtfully shook her head. "I want to believe it, Sam. I really do. I still hate what's happened to him...that ring!" Furious, Tansy jumped onto her furry feet. And after composing herself, she looked down at Sam and added, "Now I must apologize. It's been such a strain on me you see. I'm off to bed. We'll talk again tomorrow." At those words, again she forced a little smile across her tense lips. "Good night, Sam."

"Good night," he whispered soberly.

Tansy left the parlor and as she strode down the hall, she remembered what Frodo told her once.

"_I felt like I was walking in circles..."_

And that's how she also felt—trapped in an emotional labyrinth. And no matter how hard she tried, when there seemed to be an exit in this maze, it was all just a mirage.

No exit.

No escape.

Tansy stopped at the bedroom door. She hoped nothing disturbed Frodo's sleep. And as her hand reached for the brass knob, Tansy froze. Suddenly she found herself in bed next to Frodo. Drifting out of sleep when she felt something cool, something sharp slither along her neck and stop short at her throat. Tansy's eyes were now open wide and alert. She could see him, staring in utter horror at Frodo leaning over her. His eyes, frigid blue and glaring evilly while the tip of the knife seemed to tease the soft spot of Tansy's skin above her throat.

She dared not scream, fearing the knife would pierce her skin. Instead, her lips parted. The words had been frozen like her body. And when Tansy looked down at her hand, it trembled at the knob and she shivered at the realization of what had occurred—her uncontrollable imagination.

Tansy hesitated and stayed outside the door. She was indeed frightened, but it wasn't only her imagination that kept her hand from turning the knob. Tansy thought she heard a faint mumbling down the hall. Quietly, Mrs. Baggins strolled down the tunnel and as she neared the room where Calla and Elanor slept, the mumbling grew louder.

Tansy's eyes caught something on the floor—a sliver of candlelight that made its way through the tiny crack of the open door. Making sure she wasn't heard, Tansy eased herself near the crack and peeked inside. There sitting at Calla's bedside was Rory. His crutches lay neatly against the wall.

"Do you have to leave, too?" Tansy heard Calla say to Rory.

"I'm afraid so, Calla. My leg is getting better, but I'll be here for a little while longer."

Calla sulked. "Daddy left once and then he came back. Will you come back, too?"

"Oh, most certainly!" said Rory and when he stretched his arms wide open for a hug, Calla entwined her small arms around him.

"I want a hug!" Elanor insisted boldly, leaping from her bed and scuttled over to Rory.

"Alright," he answered, smiling. "A hug for Elanor, too."

Tansy kept wary eyes on him while he hugged Elanor. There were times she thought nothing of his hospitality toward the children, but now, for some strange reason she could not understand, Tansy felt he was too close. When Rory reached for his crutches and hauled himself from the bed, she dashed away from the door and hurried back to her bedroom. Tansy stood near the circle, peering over her shoulder at Frodo who seemed to be sleeping soundlessly. She waited there. The sound of crutches thumped lightly across numerous tiles. Tansy pressed her ear against the door and listened as Rory hopped past and down another hall.

Tansy spun around at the sound of Frodo stirring in his sleep, shifting from one side of the bed to the other. Dreading what may happen next, she eased herself onto the side where she slept. Frodo shifted away from her again. Tansy gazed down at his pillow.

_Will I find the knife again?_

She inched her hand toward the pillow. Carefully, Tansy wormed her fingers beneath it and when she felt something cool, something sharp, she grasped it. There in her hand was the silver knife. Frightened and confused, she wondered if it actually existed. Was her imagination out of control again like what has been happening to Frodo? Tansy shivered, dropping the knife, she sped out of the room and through the tunnels until she stopped at one in particular—the tunnel where Rory stayed in his guestroom. Tansy wiped her tears as she moped along the wall toward his room. Overwhelmed by a wave of emotions flooding her mind, and at the moment, drowning her ability to think clearly. She found herself doing the unexpected...

Tansy knocked softly on his door.

Then came a whisper on the other side. "Who's there?"

"Tansy," she whispered back and when Rory slowly opened the door, she could see that he was surprised.

"Tansy?"

"Can I come in?"

"Yes, yes," he said, almost too eager for her to visit him.

Tansy stepped shyly inside. Rory hopped over to his bed, lowered himself onto the edge and placed the crutches against the wall. He noticed she didn't sit in the chair and chose to stand a few feet away.

"Tansy, what is it?"

She stared at the tiled floor. Her fingers clutched nervously onto her apron.

"The children are very fond of you," she barely uttered.

"I was a father once. I'll never forget what it was like to have a daughter."

"Perhaps that is why they are so fond of you. I also see the love you have for children," she faltered and added, "You never told me what happened to your wife and daughter."

"Tansy, you didn't come here to discuss the children or my past."

Her gaze sprang from the floor and now she stared at him through a blur of tears.

"I—I don't—I don't know why I'm here. Frodo, he--,"

"Come," said Rory soothingly and extended his hand toward her. "Please, sit."

Tansy reached for his hand, as if in some kind of strange trance, she allowed him to guide her onto the bed beside him.

"I know it's very upsetting," he told her quietly, "to see Frodo ill every day. When you were married, you never thought this would happen. And now, you long to have that joy again."

Tansy closed her eyes. Her lips quivered and she shook her head, agreeing with what he said while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Rory continued on. "You fear he'll leave again, and this time he won't come back. If that happened, you won't be alone, Tansy." He slid closer and wiped her tears with his fingertips. "I'll be here for you and for Calla."

Tansy felt his lips touch hers, almost finding herself lost in his kiss. And then slapped by reality...

_It's not Frodo. Tansy, what are you doing?_

Her eyes snapped open. Immediately, Tansy broke away from his kiss. Repulsed by what he had done and shocked at herself for letting it happen, she slapped him.

Rory ignored the stinging on the left side of his face and looked up at Tansy who no longer sat beside him. "I'm very sorry."

"Are you now?" she said angrily. "It's best I leave." She turned toward the door and then her feet came to a sudden halt. Tansy pressed shaky fingertips against her mouth.

The kiss...something about it...so familiar.

Tansy gasped. Her eyes, wide with astonishment and dread. She spun around, shaking. Her heart raced madly while she stumbled toward him. "You kissed me before!"

"What?" A bewildered Rory answered.

"I remember that kiss."

"Tansy, how could I? We were never alone like this."

Her gaze dropped to his broken leg. She recalled something else. When Rory was inside the children's room and as he was leaving, he seemed to be having a problem walking on his left leg, but it had been his right leg supposedly injured. Flooded with shock, confusion, disgust and anger, Tansy shook her head.

"You—you don't have a broken leg."

"What? Tansy, what are you saying?"

She stormed toward the crutches, grabbed them and tossed them far away from the bed.

"Walk!"

"Have you gone mad?"

"I saw you inside the children's room, not that long ago. I peeked inside and when you stood to leave, I saw you hopping on your right leg. Now, walk without them crutches!"

Rory remained where he sat. Not even an inch did he move. For a few moments, they only stared at one another until Tansy spoke again.

"You're leg was never broken. All of it, just a lie!"

Tansy gasped when Rory finally stood from the bed and walked normally toward the crutches.

"You're right, Tansy," he said, picking up the crutches and returned them back to the wall where they rested again.

"Why?" Tansy inquired and then she gasped once more. "The knife...it was you! You sneaked it under Frodo's pillow. You want him to think he's going mad and—that night—no. No."

Rory closed the space between them, staring boldly into her eyes. "What?" he whispered in a crafty voice that frightened her. "What about it, Tansy? Yes, it was I, not Frodo who kissed you, who held you. It was the only way we could be together."

Tansy squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears burned down her cheeks.

"You—you took advantage of me!"

"No, Tansy. I love you. I loved you since we had met that day."

Astonished at his irrational reply, her eyes were jarred open. She rolled her fingers into a tight fist and about to swing toward his face when Rory swiftly caught her by the wrist.

"Please, don't hit me again."

Tansy's eyes glared with boiling anger. Her usually soft features were twisted with contempt. "I'll tell Frodo what you've done!"

"Tell him," Rory remarked coldly. "He won't believe you. No one will. You see, they will think it's all a figment of your imagination. Mrs. Baggins is cracked too, just like her husband."

Tansy struggled to free her wrist from his tight grip while Rory babbled on, taunting her. "Tansy, you don't want anyone to think such things of you."

"Let me go!" she demanded through clenched teeth.

"That night, I'll never forget what I heard you say, that you loved me."

"You tricked me. I thought it was Frodo!"

"How long, Tansy?" Rory yelled quietly. "When will you ever realize Frodo can 'not' be there for you. He's ill. My test proved true. He'll leave again and you'll be alone with no one to love you. Calla, without a father!"

"Let me go or I'll scream."

Rory loosened his grip from around her wrist.

Tansy, reeling from shock had stumbled away from him until she could go no further, falling back against the door.

"I love you," Rory confessed sincerely, but at the same time, seemingly demented.

Tansy cried. Unable to look upon him, she yanked the door open and ran out of his room.

"Tansy!" Rory called, "Please, come back."

Suddenly, Rory heard the screams. They were back again, Holly and Lea, screaming and pleading for him to help them. He slammed his hands against his ears and collapsed onto the bed.

"Nooooo!" His cries muffled by the pillow. The screams continued. All he could do was huddle himself into a fetal position. And there he stayed.

**TBC**


	6. Camouflage

**A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoy this chapter and I apologize after the way I originally wrote chapter 5. Thank you so much for your reviews and constructive criticism!**

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**Disclaimer: No, I own nothing that belongs to Tolkien...but Tansy, Calla and Rory Hortlebower are my creation.**

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**Chapter Six: _Camouflage_**

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Tansy sat reclusively near the fireplace. Autumn drew near and it was at this time, the last week of August, she would crotchet many blankets. She busied herself with one, weaving hooked yarn through a 4-foot long blanket the color of chocolate. While she worked vigorously, Tansy tried to focus on the blanket and at times she succeeded, but then her mind would drift to that night when she thought Frodo had been beside her. He held her so tenderly. She turned to face him, though she could not see him in pitch darkness, Tansy felt his lips upon hers. At first, she thought his kiss was different but she never questioned why it felt that way. It seemed foolish to question him about it. Who else could it be?

_**Why Rory of course. You should have known something was wrong, Tansy. You should have known!**_

Furious at herself and everything that had happened, Tansy absent-mindedly jabbed the hook into her hand. She looked down and noticed a tiny cut. Tansy raised her shaky hand. On the palm, a little blood revealed itself from the nicked flesh. She fought to keep herself from crying, from falling apart. And when a scream begged to burst any minute from her lungs...

"Tansy?"

She spun around in the chair. There stood Frodo, looking at her strangely.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

Tansy's response to his statement came only in the form of a weak smile across her taut face.

Frodo continued. "You've been working much too long on that blanket."

Tansy peeked at the blanket and then her gaze clambered slowly and shamefully up to his blue eyes again. "You're right. I should rest now."

Again Frodo eyed her suspiciously. He wondered why she had been so distant in a strange way. He often thought to himself, "She can't bare to be with me anymore. The way I've been acting, sleepwalking, finding a knife beneath my pillow. She thinks I'm mad. Well, Tansy, I fear you're right."

Despite his suspicions and rambling thoughts, he held out his hand, smiling warmly. "Come with me to the study. There is something we need to discuss."

"Oh?" said Tansy, suddenly nervous again. She left the blanket on the chair and took his hand. "What about?"

"You'll see," answered Frodo, as if he knew something and kept it secret from Tansy. Her fears heightened even more.

She followed him inside the quaint study where Sam and Rosie were waiting. Both sat at a small, wooden table.

"Well," said Rosie, "Frodo, I see you were able to persuade Tansy to stop with her knitting for now."

Tansy pretended to be her usual bubbly self, perching both hands onto her sides. And forgetting for the moment, the small cut on her left palm.

"What are you up to?" she asked them.

"Sit," Rosie insisted excitedly, "and we'll tell you."

Tansy sat along with Frodo, and then Sam spoke next but softly, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"Mr. Hortlebower is leaving in a few days, so Rosie and I thought of giving him a farewell party. We've already told Frodo about it and we wondered what you thought?"

The smile vanished from Tansy's face, which was now a sudden chalk-white. Her lips fell and a huge wave of uneasiness washed over her. She hated when words eluded her and for the sake of not looking as if something was gravely wrong, Tansy lied again with wide eyes of someone excited and a grin that lit up her face.

"That would be delightful!" Tansy replied and almost sick to her stomach to even utter what she detested to say.

"What about presents?" Sam asked. "A farewell party wouldn't be a party without presents."

Frodo added, "Tomorrow we can buy presents at the Market."

Tansy longed to be free from the conversation, the study, from the unexpected turns on the road called life. She despised herself for keeping Rory's charade hidden, what he had done on that night, and her own dishonesty. Then out of the blue it dawned on her...Rory? Where is he? Calla and Elanor, they were very quiet.

"Excuse me," Tansy blurted, "I need to check on the children."

"The children?" said Rosie, "Oh, they're fine, Tansy. I was with them not long ago."

Tansy rose quickly from the chair. "Remember, those two have a habit of surprising us you know. They're fine one minute and misbehavin' the next."

Baffled, they watched Tansy hurry out of the study. Sam and Rosie peeked at Frodo who avoided their stare. They sensed something wrong between them, thinking it had to do with Frodo's condition. Sam, making sure the silence had been a brief one, continued on with the conversation.

"That's a splendid, idea, Mr. Frodo. We'll buy the presents tomorrow."

Tansy checked the children's room only to discover Elanor rummaging through a wooden chest at the bottom of her bed.

"Elanor, where's Calla?"

Elanor looked up from the toy-filled chest. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know where Calla is."

Frustrated at Elanor's answer, Tansy left the room in another hurry and searched through the tunnels. No sign of Calla. There was a place she hadn't checked yet, a place she feared greatly—Rory's room. Terrified at the thought of her alone with him, her heart raced into a frenzy. Quietly, Tansy sauntered down the hall. She stopped at his open door and when she heard voices, she stood on the side, peeking in. Her heart pummeled faster now at what she feared to see. Calla sat beside Rory on his bed. In her hand was the Raggedy Ann-like doll Tansy made for her.

"Her arm is broken," Calla whined and wiped a tear from off her cheek.

"It can be fixed," Rory assured her, taking the doll from Calla.

Tansy's eyes narrowed with a glint of rage at the real estate broker. He examined the doll's left arm that was bent, seemingly mashed by either something that laid upon it or it simply had been mishandled. Rory straightened out the limp arm until it was no longer bent.

"There," said Rory, "it's all better." He handed the doll back to Calla.

The gloom that darkened her face had vanished. And like the sun when it broke free from a dark prison of storm clouds, Calla's face also beamed while she stared at the doll.

"You fixed it!" she said excitedly. "It's better now, just like your leg."

"Yes," Rory answered without his usual perky smile. For a moment, Tansy thought she heard shame in what he uttered next. "Just like my leg."

Tansy refused to give Calla the opportunity to give him a hug and stepped inside the room.

"Mummeee!" Little Calla said. She jumped down from the bed and scuttled toward her mother. "Look, Mr. Rory fixed my doll!" She would often call him Mr. Rory because she was too young to pronounce his last name correctly.

"Yes, I see," Tansy replied flatly, keeping her angry gaze on Rory. I'm glad she's better, but Calla it's best you tell either me or your daddy when something happens."

"I wanted to mummy, but you and daddy were talking to Uncle Sam and Aunt Rosie in the study."

She sighed. "Alright, go on now."

Tansy waited until Calla left and then she took a few steps toward Rory. At the moment, trying to be brave but nauseated every time she stared into his green eyes. "Leave the children alone!"

"I only want to--,"

"Help?" she finished for him. "That's what you were about to say isn't it? Well, they don't need your help! I look forward to the day when you're gone and then we'll be rid of you!"

Rory tilted his head a little, as if he were analyzing her thoughts. "You didn't tell Frodo. Well, I'm surprised."

"I'll tell him!"

"When? I thought surely you told him by now, unless...you think he won't believe you, or perhaps, you really are fond of me."

"You're mad!"

"Tansy, how can you deny what you feel? I saw it in your eyes when we met."

"Yes," she screamed, "I had some—feelings for you, but please understand, it was only that day. I thought I would never see Frodo again. I felt so alone."

"Then," Rory hesitated and swallowed hard. Tears welled in his eyes. "I'm not so mad after all."

Tansy shook her head. Tears threatened to burst their way down her cheeks. "You hurt me and Frodo. Why?"

"I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to be with you, Tansy. For a moment on that night, you were mine. I felt joy again when I kissed your lips and held you close to me. About Frodo, well, I must confess that I envy him. He has you and Calla. He even has Sam, Rosie, Merry, Pippin and so many others who care for him greatly. I have no one. Please, forgive me for what I've done."

Tansy's lips quivered. "I can't. How can you expect me to just—no, I can't!" she cried, raced out into the hall and left a sorrowful Rory behind in his room.

* * *

On the day of his farewell, Rory prepared to leave for Staddle. And before leaving, he never expected a 'farewell party' given by the Bagginses and Gamgees. After they stuffed themselves plenty with food, they gathered inside the parlor where extra chairs were brought out so everyone had a seat, and no one was left out, not even little Calla and Elanor. It had been time for Rory to open his presents. During that time, Tansy kept her eyes shamefully on the floor while Rory unraveled a ribbon that had been tied around a long box. And when he opened it, Rory stared crestfallen at the cherry wood cane.

Frodo smiled. "It's our gift to you," he said, referring to himself and Tansy.

Rory continued to study the cane, an obviously expensive gift no one had ever given him. His father gave him gifts, but no one he considered a friend had taken the time to give him something special.

"I--," Rory began, struggling with his words. And not only the words, he also struggled to make eye contact with Frodo. "You didn't need to trouble yourselves with this party or the presents," he stated, overwhelmed with immense guilt and regret.

"It was no trouble at all," said a sincere Sam Gamgee. "You were very kind to us and we felt bad when you broke your leg."

Rory held the cane in his hand.

"Go on," Sam nudged, "walk with it a little."

"What?"

"We want to make sure you're comfortable with it."

"Ah, yes." Rory stood awkwardly from the chair. He gripped the cane's handle and once again he deceived them with his fake limp as he took a brief walk around. When Rory turned, he could not help but see a thin veil of tears along with contempt in Tansy's eyes. A stubborn lump lodged itself in Rory's throat and when he swallowed hard enough, it no longer annoyed him. "It's the right size," said Rory as he sat down onto the chair. "And it's very comfortable. Thank you, Frodo, and...Tansy. Thank you all for your warm hospitality I'll never forget while being here."

Rory sneaked another peek at Tansy who seemingly avoided his gaze and preferred to stare at the tiled floor.

After the party, Sam helped Rory with a few bags of stuffed presents, loading them onto the back of Rory's fixed cart. Once Sam was done, Rory turned and faced the others standing by.

"Again, I thank you," he said with a warm smile, a fibbed one only Tansy could see. He then added, "Good-bye."

"Good-bye!" they said in unison, all except for Tansy. And when the children barreled toward him and gave him a hearty hug, it pained Tansy to see them in his embrace. She shut her eyes for a few seconds and after opening them, the next thing she saw was Rory leaving on his cart that started down the lane.

* * *

It had been another restless night for Tansy. She didn't know how long she could keep everything a secret. Mrs. Baggins lay in bed, staring through the window at the stark white light of the full moon. For a moment, she seemed frozen, not even a blink of her eyes. As time went on, the moon set and up came the sun. Morning faded into mid-day. Sam busied himself in the kitchen preparing lunch. Frodo was inside the study, dipping the quill into a small jar of ink and returning it back onto the page of his journal. Calla and Elanor played happily in their room with friends, two hobbit girls who lived on Bagshot Row. Inside the Gamgee bedroom, Rosie knelt on the floor and pulled out a wicker basket from beneath the bed. In the basket lay soiled clothes, in which Rosie needed to wash. And when she looked up, it surprised her to see Tansy standing by the open door.

Immediately, Rosie bounded onto her feet. She hurried toward her best friend and noticed Mrs. Baggins was greatly troubled.

"Tansy?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you," said Tansy to the golden haired Rosie clad in a white short sleeve dress tucked beneath a sapphire blue jumper. "You need to wash and--,"

"It's all right, said Rosie, taking Tansy's hand and guided her to the bed where they sat beside one another. "I know something's troubling you. I've noticed it ever since Frodo had taken ill again. Oh, Tansy, I know it hasn't been easy for you--,"

"It's not only Frodo's illness," Tansy blurted with hesitation in her voice, but she had no choice and went on. "Rosie?" she started, keeping teary eyes upon clenched hands on her lap. "Remember when I told you about Rory after meeting him in Bree?"

"Yes," said Rosie to Mrs. Baggins. Her red hair had been brushed away from her face and neatly pinned up with several roses.

"Well, when we met, I—I took a liking to him, and he felt the same about me." Tansy stopped and breathed hard. "That day when Frodo was to leave for the Grey Havens, I thought I would never see him again and so when I met Rory—Oh, Rosie, it was only that day. My feelings never went beyond anything more. It's also the reason I couldn't stay in Staddle. And so it surprised me when I saw him again at the Market. I wish I hadn't. Why did he come back?"

Alarmed at where the conversation was headed, Rosie whispered, "Are you saying, when Rory stayed here, something happened between you and him?"

"No, but--," Tansy faltered again with what was the most difficult thing she ever had to say. "Rosie," she barely spoke. Her voice, shaky and raspy. She turned and pushed herself to look at Rosie. "His leg was never broken."

"What?"

"I know it's not easy for you to believe me. One evening, I saw him in the children's room. He didn't see me because I peeked inside, through the crack of the door. Not long before he left, he stood from Calla's bed and hopped on his right leg, the leg supposedly broken. How can that be unless it was all just a charade? And after I talked to him about it, he told me he faked it all along."

Baffled, Rosie squinted and frowned. "Why would Rory do such a thing?" She suddenly halted, recalling Tansy's confession about her feelings toward Rory and how he felt about her. "You think he faked it so he could be with you?"

"I don't think," said Tansy, "It's certain he faked it because of me. There's more."

And when Tansy told Rosie everything, for a moment, Rosie sat in silence. Shock numbed her lips from speaking what was on her mind. Tansy hated that kind of silence, not knowing what Rosie thought. Was she angry with her? Did she believe her? Tansy hung her face in shame until...

"Tansy," Rosie said briskly. "You must tell Frodo."

Tansy's eyes leaped to meet Rosie's firm gaze. "I—can't! What if he thinks I wanted to be with Rory that night? No, I can't!"

"You must! It would be very unfair of you to keep this hidden from him. I'll be honest, I'm not happy you kept it from us all. You knew about his charade and yet you said nothing and let us prepare a party for him. I'm sure we all looked like fools to him, giving him presents and sending him off after what he had done to you and Frodo. Tansy, when will you ever learn?"

Shamed even more by Rosie's anger, Tansy fleeted away from her side and crossed over to the window. The hills outside were like shadows behind a flood of her tears. She knew Rosie stepped beside her but kept her attention on the blurred hills.

"I'm sorry if I sounded a bit testy," said Rosy. Her voice much softer than it was a few minutes ago. "You must understand, this is all a shock to me and though I know you don't want to tell Frodo, you must. It would not be wise to keep such a thing hidden. Tell him now. You don't want it to get any worse."

Tansy slowly nodded.

"And," Rosie added, "Don't think I have no compassion for what Rory had done to you and Frodo. What a dreadful thing." She opened her arms and circled them tightly around Tansy who cried in her soothing embrace.

After dinner, Tansy hardly looked forward to what she had to tell her husband. She eased herself inside the bedroom and saw Frodo sitting at his desk. His face cradled in the palms of his hands. Alarmed at what was bothering Frodo, she cautiously stepped toward him.

"Frodo?" whispered Tansy. Her hands clutched nervously onto her burgundy apron.

He turned in his chair and looked up at Tansy. He appeared so drained and troubled again. "Tansy," he said softly. "When will the dreams end? I see the knife in my dreams. I can't stop thinking about it. I want us to move on with our lives but--,"

Tansy collapsed onto her knees and grasped his hands into hers. "You're not going mad, Frodo. What happened with the knife, you didn't walk in your sleep. You had nothing to do with it."

"What are you talking about? Then how did the knife get under my pillow?"

Tansy's face fell upon his hands. With his fingertips, Frodo gently lifted her chin. Tansy gazed sorrowfully into his eyes. Her lips trembled. A tear zigzagged its way down her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Rory...he—he put it there."

"Rory? I don't understand."

"His leg, it was all just a charade, Frodo. It was never broken--,"

"What are you saying?"

"Please, let me finish. I should have told you about the day when I met Rory. I—I thought you were gone from me forever. I saw Rory and I didn't mean to but there were feelings between us--,"

"Tansy," Frodo sternly interrupted again. "I asked you was there anything else between you and Rory?"

She swiftly shook her head. "No. No, there wasn't! Just feelings is all, and—and that's why I couldn't stay in Staddle. I never thought he would come back to Hobbiton. He wanted you to think you were going mad so you would leave me again, and then I could be with him. But you see...he's cracked. I didn't know all this until I caught him one evening, hopping on his right leg."

"What about his doctor? He said he had a broken leg."

"His doctor was a fake, what he told me. He plotted the whole thing along with Rory. And...there's more."

Frodo jumped from the chair and away from Tansy. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"You must hear it," she insisted, standing behind him. She wet her shaky, dry lips. "Remember the night when I said you couldn't have walked in your sleep. We were together. You kissed and held me but you didn't remember any of it. Now it all makes sense. You weren't there. Somehow Rory lured you outside. He must have knocked you unconscious and when I awoke--," Tansy fumbled with her words. Her hands clutched her apron even tighter. "I thought you were beside me. It—it was—it was Rory." Tears burst down her cheeks. "He took advantage of me, Frodo!"

Slowly, Frodo turned and faced her. His blue eyes wide with shock, anger and confusion. "No."

Tansy nodded. "It's true."

"No, you're lying to me!"

"Please, believe me," she cried, "I would never lie about such a thing."

"How can I believe you? You weren't honest with me about your feelings for him. I knew something wasn't right between you two!"

Frightened, Tansy reached out for him. He stepped backward. "Frodo, oh Frodo, I would never allow what Rory had done of my free will. It was dark. He deceived me! Do you really believe I would do something like that? I love you, Frodo."

"Stop it!" he screamed.

Tansy flinched at his anger that hardened his face. She had never seen him so angry, and now she was very frightened.

Frodo dashed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to be alone."

She wanted to stop him from going, wishing she could ease his pain, but she had been part of that pain and decided to let him go. After he left, Tansy slumped onto the bed's edge, trembling, fearing what would happen next.

Sam listened at their bedroom door. He heard the Bagginses fight and Frodo marching down the hall. Sam, also shocked and saddened by the latest news, leaned his forehead against the circle.

"Mr. Frodo," he whispered. "He's gone through so much, and now this. I have to be with him."

"No, Sam," said Rosie and stood from the bed. "Let him be. I know you want to comfort him but let them work it out for themselves."

In his nightshirt, Sam turned toward Rosie with tear filled eyes. "That lying wretch, what he did to Mr. Frodo and Tansy. It aint' right!"

"I know, Sam."

"I'm afraid for them, Rosie." He slipped into his wife's embrace. "I don't want anything to happen to them. I want them to be happy, Rosie. When will they ever be happy?"

* * *

During the next morning, it had been unusually quiet at the table while the Bagginses and Gamgees ate breakfast. Every moment or so, someone would look up from their plate and sneak a peek at one another. Sam or either Rosie would try their best to chase away the gloom with something cheerful, but it refused to leave and remained heavily in the atmosphere around them.

Sam worried about Calla and Elanor. They were quick witted for their age and he sensed they were aware that something wasn't quite right with Frodo and Tansy. After Sam finished his first breakfast, and before having the second, he cleared his throat and politely stood from the chair.

"Well, I'm off to visit my Gaffer. I won't be long."

"Can I go, too, daddy?" asked an excited Elanor.

"Have you finished your breakfast?" answered the gardener, donned in one of his gray vests of a lightweight material and a billowy white shirt tucked neatly beneath it.

Elanor gave him an eager reply. "I'm done!"

Sam eyed her plate. "So you are."

"I'm done," Calla chimed in. "Can I go, too?"

"It depends on what your dad says."

Calla's water-blue eyes rolled nervously to Frodo sitting at the end of the table. She knew he seemed upset and feared what he would say.

"Daddy?" she barely uttered. "Can I go with Uncle Sam and Elanor?"

Frodo gave her permission with only a nod.

"Alright!" Sam exclaimed, "Let's be off then."

Both girls hopped down from the table and followed Sam out into the parlor. He thought it had been a good idea to take the girls with him, to get away from the tension that continued to trouble Master Samwise.

By mid-day, Tansy sat inside the parlor again. She had to do something with herself, anything to keep herself from screaming. And so she went back to her knitting. Futile it was, because Frodo distracted her each time she weaved the hook through the blanket. She left from where she sat and noticed Frodo took a promenade through the tunnels. His hands tucked behind his vest, the color of sand. One would know that Frodo's walk hadn't been a cheery one, but one of deep thought. Tansy watched him carefully and curiously as he strolled at a snail's pace down the hall. Not far from their room, he froze in his tracks, as if a recall suddenly gripped him. Whatever is was, it held his attention for a few moments. He then marched back in the opposite direction only to be startled by Tansy standing at the end of the tunnel.

"Frodo?" she said timidly and felt the sting of his anger like daggers blazing out from his eyes.

"I need to do something."

"What?" said Tansy, trying to block his path.

"I know you don't want me to go but I must."

"Go where?"

"Tansy," he retorted sternly. His voice so frigid that it seemed to permeate through flesh and bone, and then deeper until coldness reached the dark corners of her soul. "I must go!"

She stumbled out of his way but followed close behind him as he stormed toward the front door.

"Frodo?" she said, raising her voice and her fears along with it. "Please, tell me where you're going!"

He ignored her, yanked the door open and scurried down the steps.

"Frodo!"

**TBC**

****

**A/N: I'm afraid I had to leave you with another cliffhanger, _ducks head once again at flying objects,_ but I couldn't write what happens next all in one chapter. And again I promise not to keep you waiting long till the next!**


	7. Discord and Decision

**_A/N: Hey, everyone! I'll always be very grateful for your reviews and I'm happy you enjoyed this story just as much as the others. And though I enjoyed writing this series, I won't be writing any more fan fiction for a while. Special thanks to Sami (Katana-babe) for your wonderful support and friendship! Well, this is the end of the "Fragile Choices" series and I now present to you the final chapter! _**

Disclaimer: Don't own Tokien's characters or quotes from his book. I only own Tansy, Calla and Rory Hortlebower

**Warning: Major angst and mild violence.**

* * *

"_**I know you don't want me to go but I must."**_

"_**Go where?"**_

"_**Tansy," he retorted sternly. His voice so frigid that it seemed to permeate through flesh and bone, and then deeper until coldness reached the dark corners of her soul. "I must go!"**_

_**She stumbled out of his way but followed close behind him as he stormed toward the front door. **_

"_**Frodo?" she said, raising her voice and her fears along with it. "Please, tell me where you're going!"**_

_**He ignored her, yanked the door open and scurried down the steps.**_

"_**Frodo!"**_

* * *

Chapter Seven: _**Discord and Decision**_

The cart thundered down the road through Bree. While driving his cart, Frodo had been aware of startled big folk and hobbits, though at the moment, he took no interest in what they thought of the anger and determination on his face. All that mattered to him was reaching Staddle.

Rory intended on pouring himself some tea when he heard the sound of a pony galloping up the lane.

"Whoever it is," he thought, "is most certainly in a hurry."

Rory left the kitchen, and as his hobbit ears tuned into the sound of the cart slowing down near his home, his legs hastened toward the window. He stood on the side and peeked out. Rory's eyes grew a tad larger at the sight of Frodo leaping down from the cart.

_**Frodo? What is he doing here, unless...is it possible?**_

Rory had no idea of what to expect of Frodo's unexpected visit and grabbed his cane off the hook of the coat stand.

Frodo headed toward number 1, the yellow door of Rory's hobbit hole. He kept his eyes firmly on the hole as he took a slow, angry stride up the steps. When Frodo reached the door, he knocked softly, pretending his visit had been a kind one. The circle creaked open and there stood Rory, his hand bearing down on the cane.

"Hello, Frodo," he said rather surprised. "Is everything all right?"

Frodo pushed a smile onto his lips. "Why would you think something is wrong?"

"I don't want you to think I'm not polite. You're welcome in my home. It's just—well—if I had known of your visit, I would had more than just tea to offer you."

"It's quite all right, Rory."

"Come in!" said Rory, trying his best to sound cheerful and delighted to see Frodo.

Frodo breezed past him and for a second, Rory thought he sensed something foreboding in the air around them. After closing the door and joining Frodo in the parlor, he grew very uneasy at the suspicious way Frodo eyed his leg and the cane.

Rory chose to ignore it for the moment, not wanting Frodo to see he was indeed nervous. Mr. Hortlebower gestured his hand toward one of the chairs near the fireplace. "Please, sit."

"Thank you," said Frodo and sat down in the chair.

Rory sat in the other and rested his cane on the side of the chair. "There must be some reason you're here,"

Frodo stared at the slightly stout hobbit, studying his butterscotch curls, his green eyes beneath thick brows, but not too thick that would make him appear awkward, and the dimples easily seen when he smiled. He could see why any lass would find him attractive along with him being a real estate broker. He just wished one of those lasses weren't his own wife.

"Well," Frodo began, "I merely wanted to say how much we enjoyed your visit with us, though we would have preferred if the circumstances were different. Nonetheless, it was a pleasure having you at Bag End."

Rory gave him a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Frodo."

_**He doesn't know. Tansy will never tell him. She's too frightened, and she'll know what would happen if she did.**_

"We can have tea if you want, I have a few seed cakes left over from breakfast," said Rory, standing halfway from the chair.

"Tea will be fine. Rory? Before you go, can I see the cane?"

"Yes," Rory answered and returned to his seat, still baffled about Frodo's visit he thought rather strange. He took the cane from beside the chair and handed it to Frodo.

Frodo entwined his four fingers around it, examining it from top to bottom.

"It's a shame, really."

"What is?"

"About your leg."

Rory chuckled nervously. "Frodo, you talk like my leg hasn't healed. It's much better than it was. I still walk with a limp but,"

"Stop it!" Frodo suddenly blurted.

"Stop—what?"

"Your nonsense!" Frodo fired back and leaned forward in the chair. "You never had a broken leg," he asserted, glaring at the real estate broker. "Tansy told me everything. Everything!" He stopped, noticing Rory's look of surprise, guilt, shame and regret, but that didn't keep Frodo from going on. "Having us believe you had broken your leg so you can stay at Bag End. And then you tricked me into thinking I put the knife under my pillow, knowing my past, you were certain I would go mad. Those footsteps I heard outside that night, it was you. You lured me to the lane and that's when you struck me. I awoke and thought I was lost in the woods but I wasn't there. I must have been unconscious, not far from here and yet I heard a voice—your voice, whispering in my ear, uttering terrible things."

Slowly, Rory shook his head. "Frodo--,"

Frodo ignored him and rambled on angrily. "You told me Tansy and Calla had died in a fire, trying to confuse me. But...you were talking about yourself. You tried to save your wife and daughter in that fire. That's what happened to them, Rory, isn't it?"

"No!" Rory shouted. Anger burned across his face as he leaned closer to Frodo. "No," he repeated through clenched teeth.

"I'm right," Frodo stated boldly and bravely he went on. "It probably happened when you lived in Nobottle and then you moved on to Staddle. But what you've done, the deceit, hoping I would go mad so you can be with Tansy...that's not the worst of it. You took advantage of her. She thought it was I who lay next to her, kissing her...holding her! That's why you wanted me out of the room that night."

"Frodo, listen to yourself, what you're saying...it isn't natural."

Frodo sprang from the chair. His eyes wide, like that of someone who was indeed mad, but despite all that had happened to him during the Quest, he managed to hold on to his hobbit sense. "You know what I'm saying is the truth. You cannot go on with your deceit any longer."

Rory grasped the armrests and pushed himself up from the chair. He stood on his hairy feet and without limping, took a few steps toward Frodo. "You're right, I can't go on with what I've been doing."

Frodo dropped the cane onto the floor. He trembled. His anger, seething and so immense it frightened him. And if he didn't leave, he was afraid of what he might do. Frodo turned away from the real estate broker. Before taking the next step, he could see in the corner of his eye, Rory bending down and slowly reaching for the cane. And when it looked like Rory intended on whacking him with the cane, Frodo spun around, grabbing Rory's arm in mid-swing.

* * *

Tansy paced around the living room, biting her bottom lip and shaking. She halted when Rosie rushed over to her. 

"Tansy? What's wrong?"

"Frodo, he's gone."

"Gone where?"

"I--," Tansy hesitated and when it dawned on her about where he could have hurried off to, her quivering lips fell. "Oh no, no!"

At that moment, Sam returned with Calla and Elanor. Both girls dashed into the parlor and headed down the hall to their room.

"Sam!" said a horrified Tansy.

Fear in her voice sent shivers through him and raised the many hairs on his legs. "Tansy, what--,"

"It's Frodo!" she yelled desperately. "He left about an hour ago and I have a feeling where he is."

"Where?"

"Staddle, that's where he ran off to. He was very angry went he left. Oh, Sam, I'm afraid they may hurt each other!"

"Don't worry," said Sam with assurance and determination. "I'm going after him."

"Sam," said Rosie who now was just as frightened as Tansy. "You shouldn't go alone!"

"I have to go alone. There's no time. Mr. Frodo may be in trouble."

Outside the hole, Tansy and Rosie watched fearfully while Sam made sure the cart was good to go. When he saw that it was, he threw his arms around Rosie, embracing her snuggly against him. He then gave Tansy a warm embrace. After breaking away from the hug, he stared at Tansy, assuring her he would bring Mr. Frodo back safely, at the same time, unable to hide the possibility that he could be too late. And when that thought taunted him, Sam swiftly bounded onto the cart, yanked the reigns and off the pony went, galloping away from Bag End.

* * *

Frodo wrestled with Rory and tightened his grip on the hand that stubbornly held onto the cane. He knew Rory would have to eventually give in to the pressure of Frodo's hand around his, but to the gentle hobbit's surprise, he was overcome by Rory's strength and thrown across the kitchen. Frodo had no idea what he would hit and then came the impact as he was slammed against the table. Stunned for a second but his senses quickly returned. The warmth and gentleness Rory once conveyed, now hard, cold and marred from anger he smothered for many years. Too long denied...and now he couldn't stop it. 

Rory lunged again with the cane.

Frodo's eyes flashed wide and mustered all the strength he had to shove himself off from the table. He tumbled onto the floor and watched as Rory swung the cane and struck the teapot, a cup and saucer...all went crashing against the tiles and broke into numerous porcelain fragments. Tea splattered, leaving dark trails across the floor. And before Rory had the chance to attack Frodo again, he leaped, barged into Rory from behind and tackled him down to the floor. In the process, the cane flung from his hand and dropped a few feet from Rory's side.

"Rory!" Frodo shouted as he straddled him. "Please, stop it!"

Rory ignored Frodo's plea, his fingers struggling and inching their way toward the cane. He had another idea. Suddenly his hand lunged at Frodo's face, digging his fingers into flesh. Frodo screamed, unable to bear the pain any longer, he fell backwards, grasping his face that had been nicked with a few, but deep and bloody scratches.

Pain assaulted him not only on his face but all over, and yet he managed to keep himself alert, watching as Rory attempted to retrieve the cane once again. Though he didn't want his own anger to get the best of him, at the moment Frodo no longer cared. He kicked the cane far out of Rory's reach and straddled the hobbit again. His hands tightly locked themselves around the real estate broker's neck. And as he tightened his grip further, he no longer saw Rory, but also his perilous quest: The Nazgul, Fell Beasts, Orcs, Uruk-hai, Gollum, Mordor, Mount Doom, Sauron, and...the Ring.

Sam's heart raced along with the cart. As he neared the top of the lane, in the short distance, he could see Frodo's cart outside Mr. Hortlebower's home. Though it was late August, humidity lay heavily in the air. Salty trails of sweat trekked down from beneath Sam's golden bangs. He didn't bother to wipe the sweat, concerned at the moment for his master. The gardener slowed the cart to a sudden halt; he hastily jumped off and sped up a few steps that led to the door. With his fist, Sam pounded frantically upon the circle.

"Mr. Frodo!"

He heard a cryptic silence, but it had been broken by something crashing on the floor—a sound that stirred his heart into a frenetic race again.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam repeated, screaming his name over and over.

When no one answered him, Sam decided on going inside. His fingers grasped the knob. Barging his way in, the gardener hurried into the parlor. Hearing a struggle that reached his ears, he spun in the direction of the struggle and scurried to the kitchen where he saw Frodo strangling Rory on the floor.

"Mr. Frodo!" He screamed again. Horrified, Sam leaped toward Frodo, hooked his arms around the small waist of his master and tried desperately to drag him away from Rory. When it seemed Frodo refused to let go, Sam tugged harder until he tumbled backwards with Frodo along with him.

Frodo swung around, stunned and surprised to see Sam behind him. His eyes wide and blazed with anger. "Why did you stop me?" he breathlessly questioned Sam. "I wanted to kill him. Why did you stop me, Sam!"

"Mr. Frodo," Sam whimpered, "You can't."

**"**_**You can't"** _Those words jarred him back to his hobbit sense along with a recall of what Gandalf told him once about Gollum: _**"It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity and mercy..."**_

Frodo stared at Rory who, grasping his neck, choked and gasped for air. The gentle hobbit, when realizing he almost killed Rory, squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into his cradled hands.

For what seemed like a long while, Frodo and Sam remained on the floor. A few feet away sat Rory, every moment or so, he coughed and rubbed his aching neck.

After Frodo composed himself along with his senses, he winced from his injuries as he stood from the floor. Behind him, Sam also rose onto his feet. Frodo started toward Rory. He then stopped and looked down at Rory whose eyes slowly rolled up to meet his firm gaze.

"I don't ever want to see you at Bag End," said Frodo sternly, "Or near my wife again."

Sam walked up to Frodo. His hand reached out, gently touching his master's shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. Let's go home."

Frodo gave Sam a rueful look. He then nodded as he left the hole along side his loyal friend.

* * *

Tansy and Rosie rushed out from their hole, relieved and ecstatic to see their husbands home safely. Sam embraced Rosie heartily and when they saw Tansy and Frodo, not hugging but only stared at one another, the Gamgees decided it was best to leave them alone. 

"Oh, Frodo," said Tansy, "you're face." She extended her hand toward his face to soothe the blood-dried scratches with her fingers. To her surprise, he flinched away from her touch.

No embrace.

No kiss.

Frodo angrily walked away from her, leaving behind a frightened, trembling and teary-eyed Tansy.

During that night, in the Bagginses bedroom, a sorrowful Tansy sat on the bed's edge. She didn't look at Frodo standing in front of her. Shame kept her eyes away from him while he talked.

"Earlier, I thought about this on our way back home. It's best I sleep in another room. Right now, we can't be together. You need time to think about what you've done that led to all of this. I know it's not what you want, but we need to do this. Tansy, you must understand, you held the truth from me. If only you would have been honest, then--," he sighed deeply.

"You're right," Tansy barely spoke, keeping teary eyes on her lap. "But...I'm concerned about Calla. I don't want her to see us sleeping in separate rooms."

"I have to think of something to tell her. I know she won't understand, but this is the way it must be."

"How long should we separate?"

"I don't know. It may be for a long while." Frodo turned away from her and when he hesitated at the door, Tansy momentarily held her breath, hoping he would change his mind, run back to her and hold her in his arms. Instead, he only muttered, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said in a raspy, trembling voice.

The door slowly shut.

Frodo was gone.

Tansy bit hard on her bottom lip, thinking that would keep her from crying. But nothing could stop the bitter tears streaming down her cheeks as she threw herself across the bed.

* * *

Days and weeks passed. Autumn arrived and everywhere it went, hobbits felt its chill. And every leaf it touched, it left its mark of gold, crimson and russet. One particular night, Tansy sat on the bench in front of her vanity table. She usually brushed her hair before going to bed. Instead, she stared listlessly at her somber reflection in the mirror. 

_**I am sorry, Frodo. I never meant to hurt you. Oh, Frodo, please...forgive me.**_

Inside one of the guestrooms, Frodo lay in bed. His head raised slightly on two propped pillows. He longed for sleep but it had eluded him for what seemed like hours. Frodo stared ruefully at wooden beams of the ceiling above.

_**Tansy, what are you thinking? I want to know...will you be honest? I want to know that I can trust you...because I love you.**_

At that moment, Rory sat at the kitchen table. It had been a month since the fight with Frodo and how he nearly killed him. As he sat in chilling silence, his face was hard and what happiness he once felt, though far from genuine had left him alone...alone in the emptiness of his hobbit hole. Slowly, he rose from the table and moped into the parlor. He stood there, his eyes surveying everything he had owned, everything he once cherished, and now, it meant nothing to him.

_**Frodo, Tansy...what have I done?**_

Holly and Lea...their screams ricocheted off the tunneled walls and echoed around the hole.

That night assaulted him again and again.

His mind had gone back to their home in Nobottle. He quarreled with Holly in the bedroom, unaware of Lea who hated to hear them argue, she panicked and stepped backwards against the dresser. The lantern, already teetering on the edge had been stirred by her impact and plummeted onto the floor. The fire spread so quickly. Everything happened so fast. Rory tried to save his wife and daughter, pleading and yelling for them to come under the blanket that he used as shelter from the flames. They were too frightened. By then, the beams gave way, crashing down on the two people he cherished more than anything. The deafening screams. The searing heat of the fire...

Rory found himself back to the present, screaming, shaking.

And now his screams echoed around the hole, around everything he once cherished. It meant nothing to him without Holly and Lea.

* * *

Several more days passed since that night. On a cloudy and chilly afternoon, desperate knocks on the front door had beckoned Sam to hurry and open it. There stood his Gaffer in the doorway. 

"Come in!" said Sam and at the same time, he wondered why his dad looked so grave as he stepped inside the parlor.

Frodo also stood beside Sam and noticed it as well. "Is everything all right?" Frodo asked the Gaffer.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" Sam queried.

"A few days ago, Rory, he—he's dead."

"Dead?" said Frodo.

"His body was found drifting along shallow water of the Brandywine River. Some folk say he must have gone fishing but he never fished there. I've also heard other nonsense about him drowning himself. Now, why would Rory do such a thing as that--,"

The rest of what Sam's Gaffer said had faded beyond Frodo's hearing. At the moment, Sam and his dad seemed far away while the gentle hobbit mused in shock at what he heard.

* * *

The next day, Frodo drove his cart out to the Brandywine River. He stood upon the bank and solemnly looked down at the water. He shivered from the brisk wind that sneaked beneath his black velvet cloak, but it wasn't only the chill, he also shivered at the thought of Rory. He believed it was possible he ended his own life. He knew Rory had been tormented because of his past, a chilling mirror of himself. Frodo shivered at the memories of his parents when they drowned in the river, recalling the same gossip about them from the Hobbiton miller, Ted Sandyman... **_"And I heard she pushed him in and he pulled her in after him..."_**

A tear snaked down his cheek, and then Frodo swiftly turned away, leaving the river behind him.

Not long before the sun was ready for its slumber, Tansy rested on a chair near the bedroom window. That's where she spent most of her time, knitting the last few rows of the blanket she started back in August. The door slowly opened. Tansy could see it was Frodo but she continued to knit vigorously.

He halted in front of her.

"It's a shame what happened to Rory," Tansy suddenly blurted. "I wish he had never come back to Hobbiton. I wish--," she babbled on frantically while knitting faster. "Why did he come back? He drowned himself because of me, because of me!"

"Tansy, stop it!" Frodo screamed, grabbing her shoulders and yanking her out of the chair. "It's not your fault. I don't want you to blame yourself. Rory was ill. He was ill, Tansy! Now, I want us to move on. I want us to be together again. But I need you to promise me that you will be honest. No more lies. Can you give me your promise?"

Tansy nodded. "Yes, Frodo, I promise!" She said in a choking cry and when he pulled her into a tight embrace, she collapsed against him, sobbing in his arms.

Frodo gently broke away from her embrace to hold her hands. There, they stood near the window. Outside, brittle leaves were blown off the trees, leaving them bare. Winter had come and gone. Spring brought joy back to the Shire and when summer returned, on the twenty-first of June, Frodo and Tansy celebrated their anniversary like they had done each year. This time, with family and friends present, they stood near their favorite oak tree in the woods. It was a small celebration, like a renewal of their vows. Tansy beamed, wearing her favorite pink and white dress with a crown of pink roses nestled upon her head. Frodo looked handsome as always, clad in a burgundy vest, white shirt and black breeches.

They held hands, smiling and gazing lovingly at one another.

While Tansy stared into his beautiful, blue eyes, she remembered the first time she met him at Bag End, when Rosie brought her to visit him and Bilbo.

Frodo recalled how he felt when they met, never expecting to fall in love.

"I love you," he said loud enough for her to hear and everyone around them.

"I love you, too," said Tansy, smiling as joyous tears streamed down her cheeks.

And when they kissed, everyone cheered along with the Gamgees, Merry, Pippin, Diamond and Estella. Oh, wait...don't forget little Calla and Elanor who ran up to the couple with their baskets full to the brim with rose petals. Both girls tossed the petals around them—the petals that were gently carried away by a warm June breeze. Up, up they went above the trees, above Bag End and throughout the beautiful land in Middle-earth known as the Shire.

_**The End**_


End file.
